To Leap without Looking
by BloodFromTheThorn
Summary: Sequel to Time to Sink or Swim but you don't need to have read that story . When it becomes clear that Sang Min wasn't finished with his revenge, Steve sets out to find him. But has his old enemy been making new friends? On hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

_YAY! I'm back! Hello again! So, a new H50 story for you! This is the sequel to 'Time to Sink or Swim,' but it doesn't really matter if you haven't read that story, it just might help you understand the characters. So, if this story is awful, I'm sorry! I'm not 100% sure of the ideas behind it, but I felt bad for not getting out a story when I promised you one, so here it is. I hope you like it :) _

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Steve looked at the woman in front of him, and struggled to keep the disdain off his face. It wasn't that he had anything against her personally, just the fact that the governor had ordered him to visit her every week. As if he needed to. The one comfort that the ex SEAL could draw on was that his partner was also being subjected to the same torture he was: therapy.

Maria Fellows was in her late twenties, and loved her job. To anyone else, it might sound strange, but Maria found a certain comfort in worming her way into people's thoughts. It was a challenge that was different for every one of her clients. As soon as Steve McGarrett's file had landed on her desk, she knew that he would be the most difficult challenge yet, and the thought thrilled her. Now though, over half way through their second session, and all she had been able to discern about the ex Navy SEAL was that he was fiercely loyal and that he _really_ didn't like psychiatry. It was irritating to say the least.

The SEAL in question just sat back in his chair and examined his shrink. Maria wasn't what he would have called 'beautiful,' her features were in fact quite plain. There was something about her face though that drew the eye and held it, and Steve had spent the better part of an hour trying to work out what it was. He hadn't had any luck.

"So Steven, why don't you tell me about your work in the Navy," she offered. He quirked an eyebrow at her; they both knew that almost everything he had done for the past 12 years was confidential. Finding himself unable to produce a decent response, he remained silent.

"No? Well, what about your family? I know that you have a sister, but you have lost both of your parents," Maria didn't miss the way Steve tensed at those words. "That must have been hard."

"Life is hard. We just have to work around that." Steve stated, no emotion in his tone whatsoever. He knew that she would try to understand him by analysing his emotional response to certain topics, and there was no way he was going to make it easier for her.

"That is a bleak view of the world," Maria shot back. Steve simply inclined his head in acceptance of that statement. He did truly believe in what he had just said, however, he also saw the joys of the world. He simply hadn't said so. "Why don't you tell me about your sister? There is very little about her on file."

"She lives in LA. I rarely see her." It was obvious from the way Maria leaned forward in her seat that she had gleaned information from those two sentences.

"You miss her. You wish you saw her more often." This time she didn't ask. Steve felt the need to answer anyway.

"I've rarely seen her since I was sixteen, being apart now isn't any different. How do you miss what you've never had?"

"You lived with her for fourteen years did you not?"

"And we have lived apart for almost twenty. That's a long enough time for habits and longings to fade." Steve had fully expected her to tear into that statement as well, but instead she just wrote something down on her clipboard before returning to watch him intently. The ex SEAL had to fight the urge to fidget under her gaze. Instead he focussed his eyes on a small mark on her otherwise spotless desk. Let her read into that what she would.

It was almost five minutes before anything further was said. It would seem that Maria had worked out his appreciation for silence, or maybe she just had nothing left to say. The stillness of the air was shattered as his phone erupted into music. Thankful for the interruption, he yanked his iPhone out of his pocket, only to see his partner's face grinning at him. For half a second he considered hanging up on him – he wasn't in the mood to share therapy stories.

"You know that I ask all my patients to switch off their phones, Steven." Maria said sternly, glaring at the mobile in his hand as if it were a grenade. That alone made him want to answer the call out of spite.

"I work for the governor, I need to be connected," he shot back before hitting answer and holding the phone to his ear.

"_Hey, are you at therapy?"_

"Yeah," was his simple response.

"_Then you owe me big time. We have a case; you need to get down here."_ Steve was already out of his seat, and heading to the door, taking only one glance back to see Maria's outraged face. He winked at her.

"Where is here? And you're right, next time we go out, the drinks are on me." He heard Danny bark out a laugh at this comment.

"_Sure they are. You know, in the months that I've known you, I still haven't seen your wallet."_ This was possibly true. _"The beach at Hakalau."_

"I'll be there in ten," Steve informed him, pulling himself into his truck. The movement suddenly pulled at the stitches in his chest and he gasped as pain flared through his torso.

"_Steve? You alright?" _Danny's voice was higher slightly with panic.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stubbed my toe," he lied, wishing that his partner didn't know him so well.

"_Sure you did Rambo. What did the doctor tell you about being careful when you still have stitches holding you together?" _Steve had to fight the urge to laugh.

"I'll be there soon." He replied, then hung up before Danny could get another word in. Steve could practically hear his partner cursing him, and he chuckled quietly to himself. The Jersey native fussed over the SEAL like a mother hen, and though he wouldn't admit it, Steve found it slightly endearing. He was unused to people actually giving a damn about his health, and the novelty of it had yet to wear off.

Shrugging off the idea, Steve started the truck, and felt the reassuring power of the engine. He considered putting on the lights, but decided against it. Doctor's orders were to avoid 'excitement' at all costs. Yeah, right. If Five-0 had a case then the 'excitement' that his doctor seemed to despise was almost certainly headed his way. Still, putting on the lights was just _asking _for trouble.

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_So, what do you people think? Is it worth continuing? I hope you liked the chapter, and as with my other stories, later chapters will probably be longer. Steve was a little OOC, but I really have no idea what he would be like if faced with psychoanalysis. I did my best. Reviews anyone?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow, twenty reviews in one night? That seems promising. I love you guys :) I feel I should tell you that I've been having a lot of trouble replying to reviews since they started using the new system, so if I don't reply, I'm sorry!_

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When Steve pulled into the small car park, he could see that the area was already buzzing with activity. People in uniforms were scurrying around, setting up perimeters and trying to keep back the growing crowd of spectators.

Amongst the chaos that always graced crime scenes, he spied his partner, talking to the medical examiner. As he climbed out the cab, this time wary of his stitches, Danny looked up at him, and instantly began scowling.

"What did I tell you about hanging up on people?" The Jersey native called over, as he headed in his direction.

"What can I say? There was a tunnel," he lied, unsuccessfully.

"Of course there was. How was the devil woman?" This was a nickname that the two of them had adopted for Maria.

"About as good as you'd expect. How does her asking me about my family help me 'cope' with getting shot?" Though he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it, Danny knew that Steve was right. Maria had deemed it necessary for Danny to tell her every little fact about his relationship with his daughter, as though that was going to help him get over the fact that him and his partner had been tortured half to death.

"Maybe you could cooperate with her and she might let you off the hook?" Danny suggested with a smug grin. Steve threw him a glare.

"Yeah, that would work. I get the feeling that she's going to report to the governor that I need to go to therapy every week for the rest of my life, just to watch me suffer. Anyway, what can I tell her about my life? Most of it I've been forced to swear never to speak of." He had a point. "Anyway, what have we got here?" Danny automatically fell into work mode.

"Middle aged man, looks native to the islands. No ID yet, but Kono and Chin are running background checks. CSU are sweeping the whole area for evidence, but thanks to the tide it's unlikely that they'll find anything. Our ME says that time of death was about one or two o'clock this morning." Steve nodded along, taking in the information and committing it to memory.

"Cause of death?" He inquired.

"Unclear so far. We'd need a post mortem to be sure, but it doesn't appear to be drowning. There is defensive bruising."

"So there was a struggle." Danny nodded at him. Steve bit his lip slightly as he looked around the scene, trying to piece together a scenario in his head. It was impossible however, without more information. "Who found the body?" Danny had to check his notes briefly.

"One Carl Evans. He was out for an early morning run when he stumbled across the body in the surf." A look of disdain crossed his face. "I mean, who runs on the beach? At seven in the morning? You'd have to be crazy."

"_I_ run on the beach in the mornings," Steve retorted with mock hurt in his tone. Danny just grinned.

"Case in point, babe." Steve rolled his eyes at him, but smiled. "Evans is currently with one of the officers. He wasn't coping too well with the shock." His voice had dropped slightly in sympathy. The ex SEAL offered a grim smile.

"I can imagine. Can we speak to him yet?" Danny nodded to a police car on the road. The back door was open and a figure was perched on the edge of the seat, his head between his knees, and his chest heaving with what appeared to be sobs. "Maybe not just now," Steve conceded quietly. He turned, his eyes landing on the white sheet that was currently concealing the body. Moving closer, he ensured that he was between the body and the watching public before pulling back the corner of the sheet to see his face.

What he saw was not pleasant. It was obvious that the body had been in the water for a while, and the skin had creased up and turned a horrendous shade of grey. The eyes had been closed, which was a small mercy. Steve had, obviously, seen dead bodies before; in his line of work it would be impossible for him not to have. But this was worse: He knew this man.

"Steve?" Danny's voice penetrated his mind, and without knowing it, he provided the lifeline to bring Steve back to himself. "You're looking a little green."

"His name is Benji Komua." Steve's voice was quiet, strained. For half a second his partner frowned, then all the pieces flew together within his mind.

"Shit, you knew him? I-" He wasn't quite sure what to say. "I'm sorry Steve." That seemed to be the safest option. His partner nodded absentmindedly, then pulled the sheet back down. He couldn't stand to look at that face any more. Standing back up, he turned to Danny.

"We went to school together, on the island. He stayed in touch." He mumbled something then, that Danny didn't quite catch.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing." Steve said abruptly, turning and striding back over to his truck. Confused, his partner followed in his wake. Leaning through his still open window, the ex SEAL stretched out to grab his phone from the seat where he had left it, but something caught his eye. There was a small white envelope sitting on the dashboard that definitely wasn't his.

Carefully he pulled it out. His name was scribbled on it hastily, the letters smudged. Aware that Danny was looking over his shoulder – more like peering around his elbow, but hey – he opened the letter and yanked out the sheet of paper. This time it wasn't handwritten, but had instead been typed on a typewriter, but this wasn't what Steve was seeing. It was the words themselves that caught his attention.

'_And the sunlight clasps the earth,  
>And the moonbeams kiss the sea,<br>What are all these kissings worth,  
>If thou kiss not me?<em>_'_

"Who gave you that?" Danny looked just as confused as Steve.

"I don't know." He glanced around to see if there was anyone hanging around, but all he could see were the police officers. The public was being held back over thirty meters away.

"Do you think that it has something to do with this case? It seems likely."

"Almost certainly. It's from a poem by Shelley. It was Benji's favourite poem at school, he did an entire project on it at one stage."

"What does it mean? Why would someone give you the poem?" Steve just shrugged at him. "We should get the letter to the lab, it might have prints." The ex SEAL nodded and climbed into his truck.

"My house is a few blocks from here, follow me there and I'll dump my truck," he told his partner through the open window. Danny just nodded. In truth he was slightly worried by the strange blankness that had graced Steve's face since he had seen the body. He could understand why it would be a shock to the ex SEAL, but he had never seen him quite so... _hopeless. _That was the only word that fit his partner's expression at the moment, and it was terrifying.

In his rear view mirror, Steve saw Danny watch him for a moment more before turning and heading towards his camero. He had already worked out that the Jersey native was worrying about him, but for now he'd really rather Danny would just let it go. As if.

But if Danny started asking questions, what could he tell him? The truth?

'_Hey, by the way, this murder? Yeah, this is all my fault.'_

Because that would work.

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_So what are we thinking? I've sort of decided that this story is going to be quite psychological, so you might want to take note of every little detail :P Anyway, I hope you continue to enjoy it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Ok, so I'm a really bad person! I'm so sorry! I've been completely overloaded at the moment. I really do apologize._

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As soon as Steve pulled into his driveway he knew that something was wrong. It was one of those senses that he had picked up from endless years of chasing 'shoe bombers' as Danny termed them. Reaching for his gun, he climbed out the truck as quietly as he could and listened intently for any noise of movement. Crouching low, he crossed the expanse of space to the door. It had been forced open, the lock smashed in an attempt to gain entry. Very carefully, he nudged it open with his toe, bringing up his gun and checking the corners. It was obvious that the house had been ransacked, but from what he could see it was deserted now. Regardless he checked every room of the house, inwardly cursing at the state of it. Every single floor was completely covered with belongings, overturned furniture and papers.

He was standing in the doorway to his bedroom when he heard the camero pulling up outside, Danny having caught up with his slightly erratic driving. In the same moment he heard something shifting downstairs, and he was out the door in a flash. Out the corner of his eye he saw someone in dark clothing sprinting through his shattered back door. The man turned slightly, and Steve watched with almost detached horror as he pulled up a gun and took aim quickly. In the end it was his well honed skills that saved him, his muscles automatically forcing him down and forwards, throwing himself into a roll and pulling up his own gun in defence.

As soon as he started shooting back, the other man turned and ran, still firing blindly over his shoulder. Ducking into cover, Steve tried to shoot out his leg, but his assailant was too far away and moving too fast for a decent shot. With a shout of frustration, he let his weapon drop as the shaded figure disappeared along the shore.

"Steve!" There was a voice from somewhere behind him, and he turned slowly to see his partner, gun in hand, race towards him. "What the hell happened?" The ex SEAL unsuccessfully tried to rub away his growing headache.

"There was someone here..." He told Danny. The pain in his skull was making it very hard to think straight.

"What happened to your arm?" His partner asked, shock lacing his voice. With some surprise of his own, Steve looked down to see blood streaming down his arm, a ragged hole the size of a bullet in his shirt half way down his upper arm. "Stay still, I'll call an ambulance." Danny glared at him, clearly not trusting him to follow the simple instruction.

Steve barely heard him. Now that the adrenaline, and the numbness that it brought, were wearing off, he was beginning to feel the pain radiating from his right arm, spreading down his ribs and up his neck. The only word that he really caught was 'ambulance.'

'_Ambulance is good. It means doctors with morphine.' _His mind informed him happily. His thought process was too distorted to truly comprehend the fact that he was talking to himself.

Danny watched his partner out of the corner of his eye as he dialled the relevant numbers and relayed all that had happened to the relevant people. The ambulance first, then Chin and Kono, then SOCO. If people had been here, then they might get lucky with prints. Steve was sat almost completely immobile, and the Jersey native was beginning to fear that he might be going into shock. The ex SEAL was still desperately trying to recover from the traumatic 'incident' with Nick Taylor and Sang Min after all. This new attack was too much.

It took about four minutes for the ambulance to arrive and a further two minutes for them to navigate all their equipment through the wreckage of Steve's living room. Danny couldn't help but ponder the massive cleanup job that faced his partner in the near future, and he made a mental promise that, this time, he would help.

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"Hey boss, you alright?" Kono's voice, though intended to be calm and collected was slightly higher than normal in anxiety. No one felt the need to comment on it.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Steve reassured her, having recently rediscovered the ability of speech. His arm was better now, the drugs buzzing contentedly in his system, and everything was falling back into place. Despite his reassurances however, Kono still looked over to Danny who nodded surreptitiously in response. The ex SEAL found himself rolling his eyes in fond exasperation. "Told you." Kono grinned at him.

"SOCO teams have arrived, they're going to start going through everything." Chin's voice drifted over to them, before the man himself appeared.

"Can they tidy up while they're at it?" Steve asked, and the others laughed. He felt himself grinning along with them.

'_Even if everything else is going to hell, there's still this. This is safe. This is home.' _A small voice in the back of his head whispered, and the thought helped to calm his jumpy nerves.

"I'll see what I can do," Chin assured him. "Did you get a decent look at the guy who shot you?"

"Not really," the ex SEAL responded, grimacing. "He was wearing a dark hoodie, his face was shadowed. About 6'2", maybe 6'3". His skin wasn't very dark, I doubt that he was local." Chin nodded. The information wasn't much to go on, but at least it was something. They had solved cases with less.

"Do you think that this is related to that envelope?" Danny asked. He saw the way his partner winced slightly, just as the Kono and Chin both looked up in interest.

"What envelope?" Kono asked, curiosity warring with confusion on her face. Steve closed his eyes briefly, sucking in a breath.

"There was a poem in my van this morning," he told them. "It's on the passenger seat." The cousins turned in unison and headed over to the truck. The partner's watched them go for a second before Danny rounded on him.

"Why didn't you want to tell them about the poem?" Steve frowned and opened his mouth to tell him that wasn't what he had been thinking. "Don't tell me that I'm wrong, I can read you like a book."

"If you could read me so well, you wouldn't keep losing in card games," he ribbed.

"That was one time! And don't change the subject," Danny retorted. Steve had never been hugely subtle when he wanted to avoid a topic.

"It wasn't that I didn't want to tell them. It's just a long story. I don't understand any of this yet, and until we do I think it would be better to keep the poem quiet." Danny could see the logic in that statement, and he knew his partner well enough to hear the undercurrent of raw pain that was unearthed by this case. There was one thing that he disagreed with however:

"But it's Chin and Kono. We trust them surely?"

"Of course we trust them!" Steve sounded slightly hurt that Danny was questioning his loyalties. There was a pause for a moment, then: "This is hard for me, Danno." He admitted quietly. And suddenly it all made sense to the Jersey native. It wasn't that Steve had wanted to keep things secret; it was just that he didn't want to be in a position to talk about this yet.

"I know. Believe me, I understand. I'm sorry."

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_What did you think? I do get a sadistic pleasure from torturing the boys, it's frankly a little disturbing. Oh well, it makes for fun writing. Again, massive apologies on the wait. You know that I said that this was psychological? It's really fun to write that, it's just that it takes an awful lot of planning, and trawling through chapters to get the wording of certain things just right. Anyways, I hope it works out alright._

_Little side note: SOCO is the English term for crime scene investigators. I'm not sure if there is a common American word (cause most of my readers are from the USA) so sorry if there was any confusion over that._

_I think that's it. PM or review me any queries :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Ok, so I'm really late. You guys must be getting used to my complete failure at meeting deadlines. I hit a major writer's block, and genuinely just couldn't write a chapter. Then I had a massive argument/fight/bitching session with loads of my friends and was too depressed and angry to write. However, I'm now back. So, sorry for the really long wait. You guys are awesome for putting up with my completely erratic updates, so thank you for that. And for all the AMAZING reviews. They make me glow :) Now I feel is a good time to mention that in two and a bit weeks I'm on holiday for a really long time. As in three weeks, minimum. So there will be a major lack of updates (read as none) during that period, and I apologise in advance. _

_Also: __**Alwaysateen **__– you are my 50__th__ reviewer! And you therefore win a metaphorical prize :) Send me a message if you want something. _

_**^^ I know it's long, but you should probably read that. Thanks :) ^^**_

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"Got any ideas on what it means?" The young rookie looked over the poem neatly printed on the pristine paper. Having not been in the force all that long, Kono wasn't as used to trying to decipher cryptic messages as the others, and she had no idea what the poem was all about.

"Not a clue," Steve responded, his voice low, his eyes downcast. Kono understood why. Danny had been able to subtly get the cousins alone and explain things to them, warning them that this would be touchy for their resident SEAL. Having investigated her old surfing trainer's murder, she understood completely.

Danny pulled the paper towards himself and read it over once more. "I get that they're trying to get at you. I assume that they think if you're... distracted," the Jersey native had to search for a word that didn't equate to _'emotionally unbalanced,' _"then you'll be easier to outsmart. That much makes sense. But what I'm not getting is why you? How did they know that you would be on the case?" His partner just shrugged, but Chin perked up slightly.

"Unless they aren't trying to distract him." Three sets of eyebrows rose at the suggestion, and the Hawaiian was suddenly less sure of himself. "No, hear me out. Maybe the poem was... bait as it were. To make sure you took the case." Kono nodded her agreement, at the same moment as Danny scoffed.

"Super SEAL here has solved every case that has come through this office since he came to the island. Why would _anyone _want him to be the one investigating?" A wan smile lit Steve's face.

"Never knew that you had such faith in me, Danno." The Jersey native rolled his eyes and sighed, but made no further comment. Chin frowned, then shook his head; he couldn't explain it. Kono however looked thoughtful.

"Maybe to draw him out?" Steve was starting to be slightly annoyed at the way the others were talking about him as though he wasn't there. It wasn't like this didn't concern him. "To get him into the open?"

"You think someone's gunning for him?" Chin's voice was deadly serious, a sudden concern coating his face and tone. The same expression was mirrored on Danny's face. It took all of Steve's self control not to snap at them as he felt three sets of eyes ghost over him. This was _his _problem. They should all mind their own damn business.

"We're going to need to be more careful from now on." Danny said, his voice brooking no argument. Steve felt his muscles twitched, and he had to fight to retain control of his already frazzled nerves.

"A protection detail on Steve's house would be a good idea." Chin put in and Danny nodded at him.

"Get on that," he ordered and the Hawaiian pulled out his phone almost instantly. "Kono, I need you to get hold of SOCO and see if they have turned up any prints from the house. Tell them to hurry the labs if they can." The rookie spun and headed towards her office.

"Steve?" Danny's voice was quieter this time, his words for the ex SEAL alone. The other two members of the team were well out of ear shot. "How are you doing?" Steve glared at him, and the Jersey native was taken aback by the intensity of the gaze.

"What, are you done trying to baby sit me now?" Steve's voice was low and angry, taught with the stress that Danny could feel rolling off him in waves. Danny knew that it was only that tension that was making his partner lash out, but the words still sent a slight flicker of hurt through him.

"Hey, we're only trying to help here." Steve's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Maybe you can help by staying the hell out of my way while I hunt down the bastards that did this." Danny blinked in shock. "I can't do anything if you're all determined that the only way to keep me safe is to have me under guard. I'm a SEAL Danno, I can take care of myself."

'_Ah, I see.' _It all snapped together in Danny's head. _'We stepped on his SEAL pride.' _

"I know that you can. I've seen you, with a punctured lung and sever bruising and trauma, launch yourself – with me, I may add – into the path of a bullet and off the side of a boat."

"It was a yacht," Steve deadpanned, and Danny had to resist the urge to smack him.

"Either way, I know that you can look after yourself. The problem here is that those amazing things you did? They were only a few months ago. Steve, I know that you're a SEAL and you like to believe that you're invincible, but at the moment all that's keeping you together are the stitches. If these people – whoever they are – are out there gunning for you, I'm sure that the rest of the team, including myself, would sleep better at night knowing that if things go south then there is help at your side." Danny watched the words sink in, and knew that he had hit his mark. A small part of his morality told him that it was wrong to play on Steve's sympathies to get what he wanted, but in this case, it was for the best.

Steve for his part knew that he had to concede the point. By swallowing his own pride he could allow the rest of his team, his family, some comfort, and there was no way that he was going to deny them that. It wouldn't be too hard to go about working this case with an officer or two shadowing him. So long as they stayed out of his way.

"Alright then. The protection detail can stay. But I meant what I said about steering clear of me. I'm not letting this case go, even if it means I am playing into their hands." Danny observed the set of his partner's jaw, the steel glinting in his eyes, and knew that no matter what he said there was no way he could talk him down from this.

"Alright then," he copied Steve's words. The SEAL didn't comment, but stood up from his seat and stretched out his legs. His arm was throbbing lightly under his shirt, but he pressed down the pain, compartmentalising it like he had been taught in the Navy.

"We should go and check out Benji's place. See if we can find out what he was doing before he died."

"Give me a minute, I can pull his address off the files," Danny glanced around him for his folder. Steve shook his head, a grim smile on his face.

"Don't need to. I know where we're going." Without another word, he strode towards the glass double doors, leaving Danny, trying to crush the small swell of guilt, to follow him.

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When Steve pulled into the driveway, he was almost overwhelmed by the sudden rush of memories that broke past the barriers he had built over the years. A thousand moments, each unique. Steve had lost friends before, but this was the first time he felt solely responsible, and it was painful.

'_I have to make this right. I have to make them pay for what they did. I owe it to him.' _Steve told himself over and over again; a mantra that stopped him from tumbling over the edge of his grief.

"Steve, are you sure that you want to do this? We won't think any less of you if you want to let us handle this." Danny was trying his best to be sensitive, but his strongest impression of Steve had always been 'bulletproof.' Dealing with this slightly more human model, he felt out of his depth.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine." To prove his point, he shoved the door open with more force than was truly necessary and scrambled out, doing his best not to move his arm. The burning sensation was really starting to bother him, but he wasn't going to let it get to him. Walking over to the front door, Steve could see that it had been kicked in at some stage. A very strong sense of déjà vu flooded him, and automatically he reached for his gun.

Danny saw the weapon in his partner's hand and without thinking about it, reached for his own. This was a pattern that they had grown used to, clearing out houses. They both knew where the other would go, and what to look for. It was almost a dance.

Within half a minute they had ascertained that the house was abandoned now, though, like at Steve's, belongings were scattered everywhere.

"Whoever these people are, they're looking for something. And judging by the amount of destruction they haven't found it yet." Steve spoke his thoughts aloud.

"Which means that they're going to keep looking." Danny summarised glumly. His partner nodded, then something caught his eye. Without a word, he walked into what appeared to be a study of some kind. The drawers of the desk had been ripped out, their contents spilled over the floor. One entire wall of the room was covered by an enormous bookcase that would have been impressive, had all the books not been ripped off the shelves. What had caught Steve's eye was a small, unobtrusive leather bound book that was still laying slumped on one of the shelves. Carefully, he picked it up, turning it over in his hands, his fingers tracing the familiar patterns in the leather. One the side of the book there was a latch holding it closed, that had been locked. For what seemed like the hundredth time that day he forced down the memories that threatened to choke him, and forced himself to walk to the desk.

Danny watched his partner from the doorway, mildly amused by his partner's strange behaviour. When Steve crouched down though, to peer beneath the desk, he felt compelled to inquire about his mental health.

"Steve, in the nicest possible way, what the hell are you doing?" He was ignored. The SEAL in question however stood up again after a second, having found what he was looking for and prying it out of its home. He held it up for Danny to see. In his palm was a tiny golden key, that obviously matched the lock on the book. "How did you know where the key was?"

"I put it there," he responded simply, shrugging. Carefully, he pushed the key into the key hole, and turned, the latch giving a satisfying click as it slid open.

Slowly, ever so gently, Steve pulled back the front cover, revealing a mostly blank page, but for one sentence written across the middle of the page:

'_For Friends.' _

And pressed between the pages, was a small folded piece of paper.

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_Wow, long chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. I don't really like the way it ends, but as I said, I had writers block so I sort of gave up. And I didn't want to keep you wonderful people waiting any longer. Thanks for all the support, it really keeps me going :) Hope you liked it!_


	5. Chapter 5

_So yeah, I'm home again at long last, having just been through the most amazing three weeks of my life. And, I return with a chapter! Thank you all for being so patient, I hate it when people just don't update stories, so I can understand if any of you got annoyed. Special thanks to __**wotumba1**__ for reviewing almost all my chapters, it was something really nice to come home to. I'll shut up now, since you all probably want me to just get on with it :)_

**505050505050**

It took a great amount of self control for Steve to keep his hand steady as he reached for the folded paper. Carefully, he placed the book back on top of the desk to free his hands, then opened the small note.

His eyes scanned the page for a moment, not reading, just observing the familiar scrawling calligraphy that Steve could remember from his childhood so well. His gaze was drawn to the top left hand of the page: _For Steve. _Taking a shuddering breathing, avoiding Danny's ever watchful gaze, he began to read.

_Steve, if you are reading this, then it must mean that I was unable to complete my task, and my assassins have at last caught up with me. It also means that I have been unable to convince you of the truth in my warnings. Maybe in light of the recent events you will begin to see that you should heed my words. At the very least you must hear my warnings, and then even if you disregard them, I can be at peace knowing that I did what was right._

_The first thing that I must tell you is that you must realise that you cannot win this war, no matter how hard you try. The second thing you must know is of the war itself. This is no battle that you can see, but more of politics and power. The conspiracy reaches further that even I can see. You have been on the islands for several months now, and you are surely beginning to see that the authorities do not hold all the power. The true power lies with the gangs that reside here, and it is their influence that is contested._

_Believe me when I tell you that when I came to you, I had no idea of the severity of the danger, and had I known then what I know now, I would have warned you._

_For months now, I have been working with several people, who for their own safety must remain nameless, and together we have been following a web of conspiracy that has led us to many shocking revelations. Trust no one. There are many with the resources and motives to kill you should they find out you are poking around in their business. With my death, they are probably already hunting you, and it will not be long before they fall on you._

_I know that you were never a runner, but I beg of you that this time you will not try to fight them. If you try, then you are doomed to fail._

_This note is a warning. It is not safe enough here to explain all that I have discovered. The only way for you to learn what I know is to find my friends. This I know you can do. You always completed the Easter treasure hunts faster than I did at school._

_I hope that what I leave in here is enough. My time is running short as I write, and I regret not being able to tell you the whole tale, but this writing is not safe, and even with a thousand pages could I not explain._

_My love to you and to my family,_

_Benji_

Steve read it through twice, before handing it over to Danny. His mind spun. None of the letter made sense. A conspiracy? Involving who? With a hand he tried to massage away the growing headache, closing his eyes and trying to put everything into some form of order that made sense.

"Well, that answers all our questions," Danny's sarcastic voice cut through his thoughts. "Does any of that mean anything to you?" Still deep in thought, Steve's only response was a slight shake of his head. "Wonderful. So the cryptic message doesn't mean anything at all to the one man it was intended for. This is going to go well. We have a murder of a man who leaves a note for the man investigating said murder, even though the man investigating the murder has no idea what the note means, and we now have absolutely nothing to go on other than: 'Beware great danger, you're in the middle of a war that you didn't even know existed.' Just great." Danny clearly was trying to vent some frustration with his usual rant, but for once, Steve didn't have the heart to hear it.

"If you don't want to be part of the investigation, you can just say so," he snapped harshly. "No one will try and stop you giving up."

Without another word, the SEAL brushed past the Jersey native, who spluttered slightly, searching for something to say, but came up empty. With no words to hold him back, Steve slipped out the front and walked over to the car, leaning against the driver's door. He rubbed his face, trying to rub away the pain and weariness that was contorting his thoughts. He hadn't meant to snap at Danny. He was just frustrated and he had turned it on his friend, leaving him feeling guilty.

He dropped his hands from his face when he heard the door opening, and looked up in time to see his partner appear out of it, his face completely blank.

"Danno, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you," he said, his eyes darting over the Jersey native's face for some show of emotion. Danny never was one to try and hide how he was feeling.

"Don't call me that," was the only response that he got, as the blonde man crossed to the car and dropped into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed behind him. Resisting the urge to slam the top of the camero in frustration at his own stupidity, the SEAL pulled open his own door and climbed into the awkward confines of the car.

**505050505050**

"Did you find anything at the house?" Kono asked the two partners as soon as they came through the glass doors.

"Sort of," Danny supplied, since Steve appeared to make no effort to answer her. The Hawaiian's eyes flickered between the two, catching onto the tension in the pair. "There was a note for Steve, but it doesn't make much sense." He fished it out of his pocket and gave it to her. For a moment it was silent as she read the page, then looked up at them in confusion.

"A conspiracy theory?"

"So it would seem. And we won't get answers unless we can find the 'friends' mentioned. Not that there are any clues as to who the 'friends' are." He added slightly bitterly. Steve remained silent, his face thoughtful.

"Let me see the letter," he said after a moment, reaching for the paper. The rookie handed it over without a word, her eyes taking in the tightness of his shoulders, the flickers of pain the crossed his face periodically. _'He was shot this morning. Pain would make sense,' _she reminded herself.

As he read the letter, Steve frowned to himself. _'Don't read the article as a whole,' _the voice of his old naval intelligence instructor informed him. _'Take each word separately, look for patterns. Find the hidden obvious.'_

"I know where to find the next clue," he said suddenly. It was so obvious it was almost painful. He put the letter down on the computer table to show the others. "You see here it talks about treasure hunts?" He pointed to the line on the page. The others nodded. "It didn't make any sense before. Benji and I never _did_ treasure hunts at school. Ever. It's a clue, a direction to the next stage."

"You're making this sound a lot like a treasure hunt in and of itself, you know," Danny informed him, but with a slight smile. His previous anger was fading as he realised that he was just being an overtired idiot.

"It's something that Benji would have done. He tended to lean towards the theatrical."

"So you think that there's something you need to find at the school?" Kono asked, a frown creasing her face. Steve nodded.

"And I know where. The end confused me: 'my love to you and my family.'" At this Danny felt he had to butt in.

"Some people like to admit that they care for people, Steven. It's human nature," he said, a smile dancing on his face. Steve rolled his eyes.

"What I meant was that Benji doesn't_ have_ any family. His parents died a few years ago and he never married."

"Maybe he had siblings?" Kono mused, but Steve shook his head.

"He would have told me." His voice was certain.

"What does the family bit mean then?"

"It was an old joke. When we went to school, the teachers were trying to promote 'friendship' et cetera, and they used to refer to each class as a family. We need to go to my old classroom." He told them.

"If all the clues are this cryptic, this is going to take a while," Danny observed. Steve just shrugged at him. "What have you got, Kono?"

"I'm trying to get Komua's financials, but they're all over the place. There is money going in and out sporadically from multiple banks, and several transactions that are proving to be untraceable. Either he was incredibly disorganised, or his was trying to hide a paper trail."

"Given what's in the note, I'm going to bet on the latter." The Jersey native muttered.

"You'll find it, I'm sure," Steve told her, grabbing the keys for the camero. "Where's Chin?"

"Down at the lab, trying to get them processing everything as fast as they can, but I gather it's slow going."

"Pass on what we've learnt. We'll be back in a few hours," he called over his shoulder as he and Danny headed for the car park.

"I will," she called after them just as the doors swung closed. Then under her breath: "Stay safe."

**505050505050**

_There you go! I hope you liked it. This story is so hard to write. It took about three hours to even get the vague idea of this chapter, so I hope it worked out alright. Feel free to PM me with any questions, I think the story is going to get a little confusing from here on in. Anyway, reviews make my life, and hello once more. :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_For the record, I don't know any schools in Hawaii, or in fact anything about the education system in America in general. I've lived my whole life in the UK and I've never been to the states, so you might have to forgive me for any inaccuracies. I have no idea if 'Nanakuli High School' exists in reality, and if it does, I apologise for using your school. If it doesn't, it does now :)_

_I know that there's been a bit of a wait for this chapter, sorry about that. I'm on holiday (again) and I'm finding it really very distracting. Also, I've never written a story this challenging before._

_Just another, slightly shameless plug, if you could vote in my poll, I'd greatly appreciate it :) _

_So, enough rambling. Hope you enjoy it._

**505050505050**

"You went to school in Nanakuli?" Danny asked in surprise, as soon as he realised where they were going. Steve nodded vaguely, concentrating on the road signs. He might know the island well, but he hadn't been in this area much since he was just a teenager. "Why?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time. Nanakuli High is a good school." He quietly defended. Danny just shrugged. Apart from his daughter's school, he had very little contact with the education system on the islands.

For a moment, Danny looked at his partner, sizing up the tightness in his shoulders, the crease between his eyebrows. Steve looked exhausted, dark bags forming under his eyes. From under the sleeve of his shirt, the Jersey native could make out the edges of the bandages still wrapped around his arm. The SEAL was aware of the eyes on him, and he shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. Within a minute he cracked.

"What?" He demanded.

"You look like you could do with a rest," Danny deadpanned. He didn't want to invoke his partner's wrath, but sometimes, Steve just didn't have to common sense to keep himself alive.

"I'm fine." At his partner's raised eyebrows, he amended his statement. "I'll cope. Right now, the only thing that I care about is getting this case finished." As he spoke, they pulled over outside a set of wrought iron gates, above which sat an aged sign reading: 'Nanakuli High School: Populus accipiuntur hic doctrina.'

As they climbed out of the camero, Danny gestured to the sign.

"What does it mean?"

"It's the school motto. It literally translates as: 'People of learning are welcomed here.'" The way that he spoke, the Jersey native could tell that it was something he was used to reciting.

Their conversation was interrupted at that point, by a middle aged man rushing towards them to open the gates.

"Commander McGarrett?" He asked. The SEAL noticed with mild amusement that it wasn't until he nodded and smiled at him, that the man unlocked the chain around the gates. He couldn't recall the security being that tight when he had been a student here. But then again, he and Danny had frequently reflected on how Hawaii's crime had risen over the last decade.

"This is my partner Danno Williams," he said, gesturing, ignoring the scowl that the detective in question threw his way.

"Mr Renaulds," the man introduced himself as he shook their hands. The man was short and rather chubby. He had a round face that had the redness of someone who was always a little too warm. The colour of his skin made it clear that he wasn't a Hawaiian, though his accent sounded somewhat British. "I'm in charge of the school during holidays and weekends. I understand that you need to have a look around?"

"We have reason to believe that we might find evidence involved in a murder investigation on the premises," Danny supplied. It was a stretch of the truth, they had no idea if they'd find anything at all, let alone evidence.

"Would this be the murder of that Komua fellow?" At the bewildered looks of the two cops, Renaulds chuckled good humouredly. "I have been known to watch the local news from time to time. I find that it helps to know what's going on, especially when two policemen turn up at the door. And an Army man at that."

"Navy," Steve corrected, ignoring Danny's snigger.

"Yes, well," Renaulds muttered as he led them down a corridor. Both walls were covered in lockers, covered in all forms of graffiti. "It's all the same to me, anyhow. This is the room you want, I believe." He pushed the door open and ushered them both inside. "I'll leave you to it. Just give me a shout when you want to go." A quick glance at his partner told Danny that Steve was in no state to be answering, so he turned back to their guide.

"Thank you," he said. As soon as he was sure that the man was gone, the Jersey native turned his attention to the Navy SEAL who was gazing around the room as though it was another world. "Are you sure that you're ok to do this?"

"Yeah. It's just..." He trailed off, swallowing thickly. A thousand emotions danced across his fast, too fast for Danny to read them all. "It's weird being back here. I never thought that I'd come back. Once I was sent to the mainland, I resigned myself to the idea that I'd never see this place again. Now I'm here... I wish it was under different circumstances." Crossing the room, Danny patted Steve's shoulder, offering him a life line.

"I know. Take all the time you need." The Jersey native knew that Steve was as comfortable with emotional talks as he was, as in, not at all. Extracting himself from the situation, he wandered around the room, glancing over displays of work pinned to the wall, not really taking them in.

"Any thoughts on what we might be looking for?" The ex SEAL asked after a few moments. He had pulled himself together as best he could and was now looking around the room for some form of inspiration.

"You're the one who's supposed to understand the riddles. Are you sure that there's nothing else in the letter?"

"Nothing that I can see. If the next part is as obscure as the letter, then it could be anything in here!" Steve groaned in frustration. He couldn't let this be another dead end.

"Let's think about this logically. Everything so far has been something that was personal to the two of you. What in here is personal to you both?" Steve thought about it for several moments.

"These were our desks," he said after a minute, pointing. "But I doubt that they are the same ones as back then." Despite his words, he opened up the closer one of the two, sifting through its contents and tracing the graffiti carvings in the wood of the lid.

"See anything?" Danny queried, coming over to have a look. Normally he would have gotten to work on the second desk, but there seemed little point. If there was another clue, it was likely to be something that only Steve would recognise.

"Nothing that screams 'I'm a clue, read me,' no." Danny grinned at him. "It would be a help to know what I'm looking for." For several minutes, the ex SEAL just kept searching in silence. He kept trying to see anything that he could link to some memory, but every time he came up blank. Once he was certain that there was nothing in the first desk, he moved onto the next one. The second one had been Benji's, and Steve thought that if anything was here, it was more likely in this desk.

"This is hopeless!" He cried eventually, shoving at the desk violently. "There's nothing here!"

"Then we keep looking, and try again. We've solved cases before without clues leading us to the killer. We can do it again. Just have a little faith," Danny tried to console his partner. He could sense a small part of the larger man flying to pieces, and it worried him greatly. If Steve wanted to stay on this case then he needed to remain objective.

"Faith isn't going to solve this."

"But it will keep us going."

"Not forever, Danno." Steve pushed himself away from the desk he was leaning on. "I really thought..." He trailed off. He had been so _sure _that there would be something here, but it was just another dead end. A waste of time. Absent mindedly he glared at the two open desks, as though it was their fault. Maybe it was.

Just as he was about to look away, something caught his eye. Carved into the lid of one of them was a list. A list of numbers. And above the list, in very small lettering, two word were carved. He didn't know how he had missed it.

'_For Steve.'_

**505050505050**

_Lots of things :) First off, my latin is probably awful, I haven't learnt it for a few years now, and I wasn't great at the time. I tried my best._

_As for the desks, I don't know if they're used in America all that often. They're essentially a table that has a lid that lifts, so that there is a drawer like space in the table for books and such._

_Also, please tell me if I'm getting characters OOC. I'm aware that Steve was wildly OOC this chapter, I'm still trying to find a balance with him when he's not being beaten to death. And yes, my mind works in twisted ways. I just can't see Steve being completely untouched by someone attacking him psychologically._

_Anyways, lots of AN for you :) Thanks for reading, as always PM me with questions. _


	7. Chapter 7

_So, I'm staying in a place with no internet, which means that updating is a little tricky. So is replying to all your fabulous reviews. I'm sorry. Anyway though, here is the next chapter, as promised (even if it is a little late)._

_Several people pointed out quite rightly that Steve and Chin's school was named etc in the programme. My mistake. Once I get back home and have access to all my files then I'll be able to correct the mistake. So at some stage you might want to go through the last chapter again._

_Also, a few others commented on my fail at Latin. Just to once again say, I wasn't any good when I was actually studying the subject, let alone now, so I apologize for what I'm sure was an appalling translation. _

**505050505050**

_1, 39. 2, 12.6, 31. 6,44. 1, 38. 1, 41. 2, 92. 5, 21. 4, 37. 1, 3. 1, 22. 1, 41. 2, 19. 4, 49. 1, 41. 2, 52._

"What do you think they mean?" Danny asked Steve, looking over his shoulder at the list of numbers. His partner didn't answer, just continued staring at the page on which he had copied the list.

"If you take them as grid references, you don't get much," Chin informed them, entering the main room of the HQ. "On a map of Oahu they come up with three urban areas, nine forested areas and four sites off the coast. On a map of Hawaii only three of the points are on land.**"

"Send out some officers to check the easily accessible ones, and if they find something we'll go check it out," Steve commanded, and Chin immediately pulled out his phone.

"The numbers don't make sense as phone numbers," Kono called as she came out of her office. "I've been running diagnostics to see if there are any patterns, but so far there's no joy." Steve sighed, dropping his head into his hands and massaging his temples. His head was really throbbing and he'd kill for some Tylenol.

"You alright?" Danny sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'll manage." He looked back at the numbers trying desperately to see a meaning in them. "Do you have any thoughts?"

His partner shrugged. "You're the Army Intelligence babe," he pointed out, grinning when Steve automatically corrected him with:

"Navy." Chin reappeared, and Steve glanced at him. "Did SOCO pick up anything at my house?"

"Yeah, a load of your fingerprints." The ex SEAL rolled his eyes. "But, useful information? Not really. There were a couple of fingerprints that weren't yours, but they were heavily smudged. Who'd been at your house recently?"

"The three of you, and Catherine. Mary as well, I suppose, but that was a while ago now. Apart from that, no one that I know of." From somewhere behind him, Danny scoffed.

"You really need to work on your social life babe," he informed him with a smirk.

"Oh yeah? And who's been at your place recently then? Us three, Grace, maybe Rachel. Great list babe," he shot back, earning him a glare.

"If you two are done, we should probably be working on this case," Chin pointed out, breaking up the glaring match that was forming between the two partners. "So we know that it's not phone numbers, or grid references. What else have we got?"

"Maybe there's a key? How's SOCO doing on Benji's house?"

"They've barely begun. Your place took a while, and I think that the lab is having a bit of a staffing problem at the moment. It's slow going."

"Get them to call in whoever they can. Tell them to look for anything that seems to be related to a number code." Chin swung away from the computer table again, and headed towards his office. "1, 41. It's repeated three times." Steve observed quietly, muttering to himself, his forehead creased in thought. The other two said nothing, lost in their own thoughts and musings.

That was until Steve swayed lightly on his feet. Danny jumped forwards, grabbing his arm, shocked by the warmth of his skin. Now that he really looked, the Jersey native was able to see the way that his skin had turned so pale that his dark brown hair looked black in contrast.

"Ok, super SEAL. Time you went home."

"In case you hadn't noticed, for the foreseeable future, I haven't got a home. I'm just going to crash in my office. I'll be fine," Steve said adamantly, but Danny wasn't going to back down.

"Not a chance. You can stay at mine." With that, he proceeded to drag the taller man by his good arm towards the glass doors, much to Kono's amusement.

"Have a fun night," she called after them, laughing at the grimace Steve threw her just before he was dragged out of sight.

The Jersey native didn't release his partner until they had reached the camero.

"Get in," he ordered, oblivious of the fact that in theory Steve outranked him, and didn't have to do what he said. Not that the ex SEAL was going to argue with Danny when he used his 'thou shalt do as I say voice.' "I'll drive." He climbed in without commenting, leaning his aching head back against the headrest. If he was being honest, he knew that he was completely spent; it was already late evening, and he'd had a hell of a day.

"If you fall asleep in the car, I'm not carrying you into the house," Danny warned him, slightly concerned by his closed eyes and relaxed form.

"I'm not going to fall asleep Danno. You can take me to a hotel you know. Your place isn't well known for its spacious nature."

"Thanks," he responded dryly.

"Seriously though, I highly doubt that we'll both fit. I won't be offended if you want me to go elsewhere." Danny knew he had a point. He knew that his apartment was little more than a glorified cupboard. But he wanted to be there for his friend, and if that meant sucking up a night of sleeping on a camp bed then so be it.

"You were shot this morning Steven. _I _highly doubt that a crappy hotel bed is going to help you on the road to recovery that you know so well." His sarcasm leeched into his tone. "Now stop complaining, because you're coming back to my place end of."

"Don't you normally wait until after the first date to say that to people?" Steve deadpanned, then dodged the half hearted punch that came his way.

"Mature Steven, very mature."

**505050505050**

The fuss that Steve made when he realised that Danny intended on sleeping on the floor to give him the bed was almost enough for the Jersey native to concede and check into a hotel, but eventually his arguing, and possibly the SEAL's growing headache, won out.

"Here, take these," Danny mumbled quietly, handing his partner a pack of Tylenol and a glass of water.

"Thanks," Steve muttered, his voice thick with weariness. He was about ready to drop, he just needed some painkillers in his system first. "Wake me up in the morning?"

"Knowing you, you'll want an alarm call before dawn?" Danny joked. "I've set an alarm, and if you even try to wake me up earlier, I'll hit you." Steve laughed quietly at the threat, but didn't doubt the sincerity behind it. The Jersey native did love his sleep.

"Noted. Night," he said, laying down on the bed, feeling the bliss of unconsciousness moments away.

"Night. There's more Tylenol in the bathroom if you need it."

"Thanks. For everything."

"Don't get all sentimental on me now, please," Danny said in mock horror, but they both knew he didn't mean it. "You're welcome."

Steve didn't reply, he was too close to sleep to find the words. Instead he settled for a contented sigh, and let the darkness have him.

**505050505050**

_So, anyone any ideas on what the numbers could be? I know this chapter is a little short, sorry, but I wanted to give you all a chance to try and translate the code, and the only way the story can go any further is for them to figure it out. I'm not sure how difficult it is, having written it myself. It took forever to do, but oh well. I just hope that it is worth it. Whoever can decipher it wins a metaphorical prize._

_** No way can I be bothered to actually check this. If anyone wants to do so and correct me, feel free. I'm just far too lazy. _

_Anyway, I hope that you liked it. I'll be back soon, with answers and yet more riddles..._


	8. Chapter 8

_So no one has figured it out? I thought at least someone might. The closest people were __**FlamMabel **__and__** Wotumba1**__. They win some form of prize I guess. PM with anything you want :P_

**505050505050**

The entire time Steve was asleep numbers danced through his dreams, and he awoke often. His thoughts were unsettled when he finally gave in to the waking world and sat up in bed. A small part of him that he hadn't noticed until just now had hoped that dreaming might produce some answers from his subconscious, but there was no such luck. It was more difficult to crush the disappointment than it should have been.

Looking around the dimly lit room, he could make out the vague shape of his partner on the camp bed, snoring softly. The grey light of dawn was beginning to seep through the windows, and Steve would guess the time to be about four in the morning. He was warm, too warm.

He briefly considered opening a window, but deciding that he didn't want to inadvertently disturb his partner, he slipped silently out of the front door. He stood under the porch, breathing in the crisp air, listening to the sounds of the island coming to life. There were bird calls all around him, soft songs that flowed with life. Further in the distance there was the faint sound of traffic, the people working night shifts going home, and their replacements on the way to work. The wind rustled the trees. A pigeon perched hesitantly on the fence a few metres away, eyeing him speculatively, before deciding he wasn't a threat and dropping to the ground to peck.

The cool breeze was refreshing, wrapping around his burning limbs. The heat rolling off him wasn't healthy warmth he realised belatedly, and he raised a hand to his forehead. His skin blazed. This wasn't something he needed right now, he had far too much to do. The gunshot wound rippled in pain as he flex his muscles, his head pounded with a fever he refused to acknowledge, and his thoughts were sluggish. He'd been working himself far too hard, he knew; even with various injuries, he had kept forcing himself through each new ordeal. He wondered what his shrink would make of it all. The thought had him laughing aloud.

"What's so funny?" The voice startled him and he spun on his heel, coming face to face with a dishevelled Danny. The sudden motion had his mind spinning, and he felt light headed. Trying to pass it off, he leant on the rail behind him for support.

"I was considering dear Maria's views on all this. I can imagine they would be... colourful," Steve admitted, fighting back a grin. Danny sniggered.

"I bet they would. D'you reckon that I can use the case as an excuse not to go to therapy today?"

"I think she'd hate you for it," he paused. "It sounds like a good idea." The Jersey native laughed again, leaning on the rail next to his partner. The pigeon flew away rapidly as he moved closer, squawking in indignation.

"How come you're up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" Steve grinned good naturedly.

"Well, I stirred and noticed a certain missing ex SEAL and it got me all concerned," he mocked sarcastically. Then his voice dropped into seriousness. "Have you had any ideas about the numbers?"

Steve shook his head sadly, grimacing at his partner. "I can't think of any reference point to work with. There isn't anything in my memories that has any relevance to any of it."

"Maybe we're looking in the wrong place."

"Benji left those numbers there for me, Danny. They're the answer to this." The Jersey native looked frustrated.

"That's not what I meant. Maybe, the answers aren't in your memories. Perhaps it's something new."

"Like what?" Steve's brow was furrowed, and his partner observed how it aged his normally youthful face.

"I thought you were the Intelligence officer? You've cracked stuff like this in your sleep before. This shouldn't be any different. Just focus," he offered.

"You sound really like my team leader back then, you know that?" Danny just shrugged. "You also make it sound far easier than it is." For several minutes, they fell silent, both pondering the cryptic message. Suddenly a thought struck Steve. "What was that you were saying about something new? What's the only _new _thing on the case so far?"His face lit up at the thought, so simple, and so secure that he had completely overlooked it.

"Err, what?" Danny looked utterly nonplussed.

"There's only one thing so far that hasn't come directly from my memory, something that is far more recent." The Jersey native's face was still lined in confusion, so Steve decided to enlighten him. "The letter Danny! I didn't understand it before. I recognise the kind of code, but every example that I've seen before has come with a reference page. I never connected the two, but the letter _is _the reference page!"

Without further comment, he strode back into the claustrophobic flat and dug through his things, pulling out a photocopy of the letter, the list of numbers and a writing pad. Grabbing a pen, he began scribbling furiously.

First he tried the first number as a line, then the second number as a word on that line, but it didn't work, the lines were too short.

'_Think outside the box, Steve,' _he urged himself. From across the room his partner watched with mild curiosity. He observed the way the SEAL's face was bright with energy, but he also took note of the strange haze in his eyes. He was no fool, he had felt the waves of excessive heat rolling off his partner, and he could see the small beads of sweat forming on his brow. Super SEAL was sick. To be honest, Danny wasn't remotely surprised by this observation; if you run around, held together by stitches, get shot and choose to barely sleep, eventually, it's going to catch up with you.

"Danno, I think I've got it." Steve's voice was quiet, but confident, and he was at his side in an instant, struggling not to recoil from the unwholesome warmth, but eager to finally understand the message. On his piece of paper, Steve had scrawled a line of writing:

'_You must find Easter, convince the gangs to trust you. Fight the war. Kill the conspiracy.'_

"Well, that explains everything," Danny muttered sarcastically. He immediately bit his tongue, realising that an offhand comment like that could destroy Steve at any moment.

"But it is something," the SEAL defended quietly.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I'll call the others." He reached for his phone as he spoke, but Steve grabbed his arm stopping him.

"Don't. They'll still be asleep, and they'll be needing the rest," he warned. Danny couldn't help but flinch at the burning sensation of Steve's skin, and he automatically pulled away.

"I'm sure they do. In which case, so do you, and so you're going to go back to bed right now, or so help me, I will deck you." He frowned at his partner to get the warning across.

"I'd like to see you try babe," he told him, standing and drawing himself to his full height, towering over Danny. It would have been a lot more impressive if he hadn't been overcome with a head rush that almost sent him back into the chair. The Jersey native sighed in exasperation, grabbing his arm and guiding him to the edge of the bed.

"Stay," he warned, before disappearing into the bathroom, and returning with more Tylenol and a glass of water. Steve accepted them without comment, knowing that if he fought at this point he might as well carve his own tombstone. Pills swallowed, he lay back on the bed, trying to fight the waves of dizziness that descended as his orientation changed. "Get some rest Steve. The case will still be there in a couple of hours."

**505050505050**

_Ok, so this is really short, but it was this or nothing at all until tomorrow. So, sorry about that. I know my updates have been ridiculous, sorry. I've started school again now, so life is crazy. Another chapter is already on the way, I swear. Hope you enjoyed. Reviews might speed up the updating process :P Shameless plug now over. Love y'all_


	9. Chapter 9

_So, I haven't seen you guys for a month. I have no excuse. Please accept this chapter as my sincere apologies._

_On another note, I'm now on the hunt for a beta. If you want to volunteer I will love you for the rest of time. _

**505050505050**

When Steve next awoke, it took him several minutes to work out where he was. He found that even when he opened his eyes, the world was dim and distorted, so he snapped his eyelids shut with a groan. The sound tore at his throat. It felt like he had tried to swallow sandpaper and then choked it back up.

'_Did I get drunk last night?' _he wondered briefly, before dismissing the thought. He'd been working yesterday, he remembered, and he hadn't finished the case yet. He wouldn't have gone for a night out when there were criminals to hunt down. And that was another thing: what about the case? _'Who am I investigating?'_ he couldn't remember a thing.

"Steve?" A concerned voice sounded from somewhere far away. He was unsure whether the distance was real, or just the fogginess of his mind tricking him. "Are you awake?" The sound was definitely closer this time, clear enough to recognise.

"Danno?" His voice was raw and painful, and the name was barely a breath of air. But it was heard anyway.

"I'll get you some water. Stay awake, Steve," his partner commanded, and there were sounds of movement, and distantly a faucet** running. A few moments – or was it hours? – later he felt the relieving rush of cool liquid down his parched throat. As soon as the water was removed he groaned again, missing the blissful relief it provided. "Not too much now Steve. It'll make you sick," Danny informed him.

"Wha-?" He tried to vocalise his confusion, but his voice was uncooperative.

"You're still at my house, and you've got a fever. You're safe and there's nothing to worry about. Rest," he was ordered gently. All of a sudden all of his memories hit him like he'd been slapped. It knocked the breath out of his blazing body slightly.

"Case. Benji." He was able to spit out the words, but his throat blazed in fury at the attempt. He swallowed violently, but his dry mouth could offer no relief. The water returned, and the agony vanished momentarily.

"The others are working on it. You're no good to anyone if you can't stand up straight. Just sleep, please Steve."

"No," he muttered, forcing his eyes fully open and struggling in vain to get them to focus. He could just about make Danny's face out, but the edges of his vision were blurred and grey. He could barely recognise the room he was in. His limbs felt like lead, and every inch of him was an inferno, encasing him in a blazing agony. His head throbbed at his suffering, rejecting the light vehemently, searching again for the peace of sleep.

"I wasn't asking. The 'I will deck you' threat still stands babe. Do you want more water?" The ex SEAL lacked the strength required for talking, and just nodded pathetically. Once he had drunk his fill – leaving his stomach feeling horribly unsettled – he allowed his thoughts to drift again, utterly spent.

**505050505050**

Danny looked at his sleeping partner, and sighed at the man's stubbornness. He had a raging fever and clearly was disorientated, and yet he had still tried to get up and go to work. The man must be a machine.

'_Machines don't get sick,' _he reflected. He was worried about his partner, and had rung a doctor several hours ago. The man had clearly been annoyed at being dragged out of bed so early in the morning, but when the detective had stressed Steve's condition, he hadn't hesitated to make a house call. Having checked the ex SEAL over, he made Danny swear to not let him leave his bed until his temperature had dropped several degrees.

Despite having been assured that Steve would be fine, he still worried. The others had all promised to stop by later to say hi, and to fetch anything he needed. There was an unspoken agreement that Danny would not be leaving his partner's side.

He was so busy thinking that when his phone buzzed from across the room it made him jump. He moved to pick it up, hesitating when he saw his ex wife's ID flashing at him.

'_It might be Gracie,' _he told himself, having to mentally force himself to hit answer.

"I hope you know what you've done _Detective._" The voice was full of venomous sarcasm, and the Jersey native actually pulled away from the phone in response. That _wasn't _his monkey.

"Hello Rachel, nice to talk to you too," he said, his voice outwardly pleasant. Anyone who knew him would detect the sarcasm.

"I have spent the last hour trying to convince our daughter that there must be some marvellous reason as to why her beloved father hasn't collected her yet. I'd just _love _to hear what it is," she remarked pointedly, and Danny's heart sank. He'd let the days get past him again, and now he had no idea what was happening.

"Shit. Look, some stuff has come up."

"It always does."

"That's not true!" He was almost shouting down the phone, but made a conscious effort to calm himself. He didn't need to disturb the neighbours, and give them reason to call the police, again. That had been an awkward conversation. And there was his peacefully sleeping partner to consider. "A case has come up. And then, Steve's in pretty bad shape. I just... Things have gotten away from me a bit." He admitted, his voice dropping in shame. His daughter should come before all this stuff, and normally she did. But today, there was just too much, too many problems that he needed to fix.

"Wait, Steve's hurt?" There was genuine concern in her voice this time.

"There was a gunman, raided his house. Steve took a bullet in the arm, and has gotten himself sick by not paying attention to the doctors. As per usual really." He sent a fond glance at the sleeping SEAL.

"He'll be ok?"

"Yeah, should be fine in a few days. Can you put Grace on the phone please?" For half a second he thought she would refuse, and end the call, but then he heard her shouting for their daughter and he softened in thanks.

"Danno!" His heart melted.

"Monkey!" He greeted enthusiastically. A smile graced his face without conscious prompting. "I'm really sorry Gracie, but Danno can't see you today." The smile slipped away with the return of guilt.

"But I always see Danno at the weekends," she said, her voice trembling slightly. The guilt was starting to crush him; cutting off his airways like it always did whenever he was forced to disappoint his daughter.

"I know monkey, but something has come up," he told her softly.

"Is Danno chasing bad guys?" She asked suddenly, interest peaking in her voice. The Jersey native was becoming mildly concerned with her knowledge of his job, combined with a strong sense of fatherly pride. "You'll be careful?"

"Of course I will Gracie. I'm always careful," he told her patiently. They'd had this conversation more and more often as of late.

"Will I see you soon?"

"The bad guys couldn't keep me away from my monkey," he reassured. "Be careful Gracie, and do what your mum tells you to."

"I love you," she said quietly. There was a melancholy in her voice that did not match her age.

"Danno loves you," he told her, sighing as the line went dead. Sometimes, like when he had to put his work before his family, he really started to question everything that he did. Across the room, Steve groaned and mumbled in feverish sleep, and the Jersey native pulled himself from his reverie. There would be time to ponder the implications of his work later.

**505050505050**

Danny was typing case notes into his laptop when his partner awoke again.

"Danno?" His head snapped up, taking in Steve's dishevelled, flushed appearance. His skin shone slightly with sweat, and his eyes were hazy; he looked awful.

"Back in the land of the living?" He mocked lightly, even as he moved towards the bed and procuring a glass of water. Steve had drained the entire glass within seconds. "So much for taking things slowly," Danny observed, recalling the doctor's command to try and go steady with the water.

"What time is it?" His voice sounded strained.

"About two thirty. You've been sleeping most of the day," he informed, reaching for the Tylenol that he had left out for Steve. The ex SEAL glared at the tablets for a moment – hating their necessity – before swallowing them with a grimace.

"You should have woken me."

"I make a point of letting fevered SEALs sleep. I was a little afraid that if I tried to wake you up you'd go all ninja on me," he muttered. His jibe brought a vague smile to his partner's face, and instantly he looked healthier.

"And you thought that letting _me _sleep was the safer option?" He threatened teasingly. In truth, he _hurt._

His head was pounding like there was a jackhammer drilling though his skull. Every beam of light in the dull room made pain lance through his head like a knife. His skin was too hot, but at the same time he was shivering violently. The sheen of sweat made him feel clammy and unclean, a feeling which was only enhanced by the way his clothes stuck to him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he lied instantly. Danny's raised eyebrow told him that even his daughter wouldn't buy that. "I feel better than before," he amended. To be honest, he wasn't sure if that was true, he couldn't really remember the last time he had woken clearly. It was too hazy, tangled up in unclear thoughts.

"Sure, babe. As soon as you can muster the strength to stand up and stop shaking, I'll believe you." It was blatantly a challenge, and he didn't wish to disappoint. The only problem was that his limbs were refusing to cooperate, and they seemed to be incompatible with being vertical. As soon as Danny realised that he was going to try and stand up anyway – stubborn fool that he was – he jumped in and pushed down on his partner's shoulder. "Nevermind. I believe you."

"Sure you do," he retorted, but abandoned his attempts to stand. It hurt too damn much. "Anything new on the case?"

"I've got Chin and Kono on it. They're going through anything on the islands that is in anyway associated with the word Easter. You know that there are 112 people in Hawaii with Easter somewhere in their name? What is wrong with good old fashioned names, like... er, Henry."

"Henry? Seriously?" He laughed, but it left him breathless.

"It popped into my head. Is there anything else you can think of that might narrow down the search?" Danny watched his partner's eyes tightened as he struggled to get his thoughts in order enough to concentrate.

"I don't have any memories about it. None that come to mind anyway." He thought for several more minutes, before: "Wait, get them to look up a man called Dominic Eastwood. Find out where he is. I think he left the islands, but there might be a link. He was a school friend." Danny already had his phone in his hand and hit speed dial.

On the second ring he was greeted by the slightly irritated voice of Kono.

"Danny, we still haven't found anything. It's going to take us time to get through all of this stuff, alright? Give us some time and we'll get back to you," she told him, trying to conceal her annoyance. In her defence, the Jersey native had been slightly relentless in his calls for updates.

"No, wait, I have something for you this time," he told her, slightly smug. There was a second of silent surprise on Kono's end.

"Alright, hit me."

"Steve says to try and track down a man called Dominic Eastwood. He thinks that he left the islands, in-" He glanced at the SEAL who mouthed a date. "In 1993. He went to school with them."

"I'm on it. How's Steve?"

"Impatient," he told her drily, shooting a half hearted glare at the SEAL in question. Steve grinned, flopping backwards on the bed. His head was too heavy to support any more. After a few minutes Danny appeared, hovering over him. "You need anything?"

"Nah, you don't need to fuss over me Danno. I'm fine. Really. Like you said, I got overtired. It's nothing."

"Woah, hang on. You're admitting that not only was I right, but you did something stupid?" The incredulity in his voice was impressive. Steve just sent him a look that he translated as: _'Really? Kick a guy when he's down?' _He struggled not to laugh, and instead crossed back to his laptop. "Give me a shout if you need anything."

"Will do," Steve responded, snapping a mock salute, and allowing his too heavy eyelids to slip shut again. His head hurt too much to bear the light any more. Gradually, the sleep pulled him further away from reality, and his thoughts drifted, the pain muted by the fog in his head. Far, far away, he could hear humming. It was peaceful, and he recognised the tune, but he couldn't quite name it.

'_I'll ask Danno later,' _he thought to himself, barely conscious. He drifted.

**505050505050**

_**As you all may have twigged, I'm English, so I have no idea if I have used 'faucet' in the correct way. It's not a word we really have. I just felt that as Americans, it feels more right to use any Americanisms when writing their speech or thoughts. I apologise for this and any other terms I use incorrectly. Feel free to call me on it. _

_I know that not much happened this chapter, but there is a reason for everything. Promise. _

_So yeah. PM me with questions or if you want to waste your time and be my beta :) Pretty please? Also there is a poll on my profile about your favourite story, and I would be eternally grateful if you could vote. See you next time :)_


	10. Chapter 10

Chin gazed at his computer screen, but his mind was miles away. After days of working on one case or another he was utterly exhausted. Sleep was hard to come by in his line of work, but recently it had been worse than ever. Steve was out of action, and that directly led to Danny being on the sidelines too. The Hawaiian native understood Danny's actions completely, and held no resentment for it, but Chin and Kono could only achieve so much on their own.

The beeping of his laptop distracted him from his musings, and he clicked on the file that he had just received from HPD. It was all the recent transactions of the credit card belonging to a Dominic Eastwood. Most of the data was inconsequential, buying a coffee or a newspaper maybe, but then something caught his eye. Two weeks ago $500 had been withdrawn in Sacramento, California. The next transaction, dated eight days ago was at a cafe in Honolulu.

"Kono!" He called out to his cousin, who came running to his office.

"You found something?" She asked, barely suppressed eagerness in her voice.

"Yeah. Eastwood is on the islands." He looked back down at the screen, searching for the most recent data. "Ten minutes ago he paid for something in Waimanalo. We could go and pick him up?"

"And ask him what? We have no idea if he even has any connection to the case, let alone this whole conspiracy theory. With nothing to go on, there isn't much we can do." Kono sounded defeated, but Chin knew she was right. Even if they did pick him up, what could they possibly do?

"Did you find anything?"

"Not much. He has no previous convictions of anything, not even a parking ticket. The guy is spotless. Normally I'd say he was a ghost, but if Steve knew him in the past then..." She trailed off.

"Then he must be real," her cousin concluded. "Could be a stolen identity. Or maybe just two people with the same name?"

"Who both happen to be the same age and come from the same place?" Kono shot back sarcastically. "No, this is the right Eastwood, though you might have a point with the stolen identity. Either way, I'll give Danny a ring. Keep him in the loop."

With that she left Chin in peace, and he struggled to find the heart to search through yet more files to find out anything and everything about Eastwood. Once again he cursed their luck with their boss getting sick. Steve was the best lead they had on this case, like it or not. Whoever was behind the murder and house raids was clearly toying with the ex SEAL, the cryptic clues were evidence enough of that. All they could do for the moment was hope that they would be able to catch a break.

**505050505050**

"I'm getting sick of this you know."

"Literally."

"Not funny Danno. I need to get out. _Do _things."

"Steve, you can barely stand up. I refuse to be your crutch just so you can waltz around the islands chasing criminals. Now shush. You're meant to be sleeping and I'm working."

"On what?" The ex SEAL was bored enough that he would take paperwork over the endless sitting.

"Case notes that HPD have submitted. Seeing if anyone picked up anything special at the crime scene."

"Any luck?"

"Nope. Sleep," he commanded, knowing it would make no difference.

"That's all I've been doing."

"I know. It's been the most peaceful day I've had since meeting you." Steve really couldn't deny that that statement was probably true.

"Well good for you. Can I go now?" He was sounding slightly like a petulant child.

"No."

"Come on Danno, I can take care of myself. I'll only go to the office, I'll be safe there. No need to worry," he tried to reason with his partner, but he wasn't hopeful.

"'No need to worry?' Yeah, tell me that again when your doctor is chasing me down the street with a baseball bat. I am sworn to keep you grounded here until you get better, ok babe?" Steve just huffed, dropping himself heavily back down on the bed. As if being sick wasn't bad enough, he had to contend with being stuck in Danny's apartment.

The silence splintered when Danny's phone buzzed noisily, demanding his attention. As the detective picked up he saw his partner's head perk up in interest. Anything to distract from the endless boredom.

"Hey Danny, it's Kono," a voice greeted him cheerfully.

"You're in a good mood," he observed. "You've found something?"

"A Dominic Eastwood, so far as we can tell, came to the islands from California about a week ago. We're getting onto the airlines to try and find out when and how."

"Do you know whereabouts he is at the moment?"

"About quarter of an hour ago he was in Waimanalo. We would have picked him up, but..." She trailed off, and Danny understood.

"You had nothing to go on. It's alright. We can always get a hold of him again later. Find anything on him?"

"His record is spotless. I've just found that he owns a business in California, I'm trying to get a look at their books now." The Jersey native pondered this for several moments, trying to make a link.

"Alright, well call me if you find anything."

"Will do," Kono said, ringing off. Danny dropped his phone back on the desk and continued to tap away at his key board. Each time his fingers hit a key, Steve became more and more impatient. It only took a minute before he snapped.

"Are you going to tell me what they said or not?"

"If you ask nicely," Danny said, not looking up from his work. He had decided that as punishment for making him worry he was going to be doing all he could to drive Steve insane. Besides, it was fun.

"Something heavy is going to be flying at your head in a minute unless you're careful," the bedridden man warned. His face was distinctly unamused.

"Do you gravitate towards violence, or is just an accident?" Steve's face darkened even further, and Danny decided that for the sake of his health and ongoing life, he should come clean with his partner. "Alright. They found your friend. He did leave the islands, but he returned roughly a week ago. He runs a company in California."

"Anything else?"

"Not yet. Have a little patience Steve, they're doing the best they can."

"Let me out and I can speed everything up. I can talk to Dominic, see what he knows. You need me in on this case Danno, don't deny it." The Jersey native shrugged, trying to pull off a blasé attitude. "At the office, nothing is going to go wrong. I'll be good, I promise." He winked and smiled pleadingly. Danny felt himself falling for it, and hated the thought.

"No! I know you. You think you're indestructible, but one day McGarrett, you're going to have to realise that you're as mortal as the rest of us. If you go to the office, you'll catch a lead and then go running after it like a bat out of hell. I've seen it happen. There is no way I'm letting you out of here until you're better, because I just know that as soon as I do, nothing will be able to stop you again until this case is over." Danny paused to draw in breath, whilst Steve was looking at him in mild surprise. "What?" He snapped irritably when the ex SEAL didn't look away for several moments.

Without responding, Steve dropped back on the pillows and faced the other way, cutting Danny off completely. The Jersey native was beyond confused. He hadn't meant to offend his partner at all, but his stress had led him to bottle things up until he exploded.

"Steve?" No reply. "I'm sorry?" It was more a question than an actually apology.

"I'm not upset," came the eventual response. Steve sounded drowsy again, his words slurring slightly.

"Do you need anything?" Danny was still confused as to what had just happened. Maybe this whole case was taking more of a toll on the ex SEAL than he would like to admit.

"No." His voice was clipped, and he said nothing further. Uneasily, Danny returned to his work, when suddenly an idea came to him. Opening up Google, he typed in the name Dominic Eastwood. The first result that popped up was a link to the website of a company that called itself the Easter Trading Corporation.

"Easter," he muttered to himself. This looked like a promising lead. This was no doubt exactly what Kono was trying to hack into at this very moment, but he felt the urge to have a look himself. There was an entire page on the site dedicated to the manager, complete with a highly flattering picture of a man with bright blue eyes and gelled back blonde hair.

'_Dominic Eastwood,' _the page read, _'originated from Hawaii, and lived there until he was 22. It was during this time that Mr Eastwood met Joseph Tyler, and together they began to plan the foundations of Easter Trading. Moving to LA in late 1993, Mr Eastwood became the CEO of the company, buying out his partner Mr Tyler.' _This part sparked the detective's interest. He made a mental note to ask Chin and Kono if they had found anything about Joseph Tyler. It might be unrelated, but it was worth looking into.

Scanning the rest of the page, he saw nothing else that seemed worth noting. Glancing over at the still form of his partner, he tried to judge from his breathing whether he was still awake or not. After several moments of inactivity, he stood and stretched, grabbing his phone and wandering outside. The air was warm and humid, but it was much brighter. All of his curtains had been closed for Steve's sake; Danny had ascertained that his brain felt like it was on fire.

Breathing deeply, the detective soaked in the fresh air, relishing in the clean breeze. Inside his flat was too stuffy and claustrophobic.

His mind was racing in circles, stress and fatigue weighed heavily on him, and he could almost feel his blood pressure rising. He was worried about his partner, concerned as to what effect this case would have. Beyond that, there was the usual worry of the case itself, that someone else would get hurt, be it a stranger or one of his friends. He panicked that he had let his daughter down and that she would never really forgive him for missing her childhood.

It was all too much. Someday soon, something would have to give, because he couldn't cope with this for much longer. So he leaned against the rail and watched the world moving around him. He worried.

**505050505050**

_I don't really know where most of this chapter came from. I knew where it had to end up, but the bit in the middle was just spontaneous rambling. I hope it turned out ok. The action is coming. I promise. Either next chapter or the one after._

_I know that the gaps between updates are becoming ludicrous, I'm really sorry. I'm doing my best._


	11. Chapter 11

_There are no excuses for my utter lack of updates. I beg your forgiveness. I think I fell into a swoon-induced coma at how amazing the last episode was. Also I apologise for not responding to reviews, the system has locked me out of my inbox, so I can't send messages. Anyway, here is the – rather belated – next chapter:_

**505050505050**

Steve was annoyed at himself. He knew that if he wanted to solve this case and catch the bastards who had murdered his friend, then he needed to remain calm and to look at things from a detached perspective. That was easier said than done.

He knew that Danny had been right when he'd said that he wouldn't let go of this case until it was over, and it was the perceptive nature of his partner that had grated his nerves. Steve couldn't stand the feeling of being vulnerable, and under Danny's watchful eyes he felt as though all his flaws and failures were being laid out for examination. It irked him more than he would have thought possible.

Sleep was dragging his limbs down again, despite his best efforts to shake off the exhaustion. He didn't want to sleep anymore; didn't want to have to suffer through the dreams that had established themselves within his subconscious. Faces of friends long forgotten and left behind that plagued him with his own self doubt. Taunting him with gleeful smiles upon their twisted features, that seemed to shift and change like the tide of the sea.

Sitting up in the bed, he looked around the gloomy apartment. The place was a mess, too small to house two men with oversized egos. The air was stuffy and he was hit with a sudden sense of oppressiveness. His want to escape intensified, but he reined in his emotions, knowing deep down that he really didn't have the energy to get up and move around right now.

Idly he wondered where his partner had run off to; not that he could possibly blame him for wanting to be away from the ex SEAL. The noble, polite side of his nature told him that he really should apologise whenever he next saw the Jersey native, but his pride told that voice to shut the hell up.

After a while, he realised that his throat was starting to burn again in demand for water. Ever so slowly, he eased himself forward, lifting himself over the edge of the bed. Taking his own weight left his sweaty and breathing heavily, but he was determined. The first step forward was badly placed and he staggered slightly as his centre of balance shifted away from his core, but thanks to sheer force of luck, he stayed upright. Whatever illness was plaguing him was outraged by his success and retaliated with a knife of agony through his skull.

Groaning and gripping his head he continued towards his goal: the sink. As soon as he reached it, he slumped his weight against the counter, desperate for the support. His entire body was trembling and his vision had tunnelled, fuzzy around the edges. At this point he had to concede that Danny may have been right in saying that he wasn't fit to be going back to work yet. The knowledge that he was wrong didn't bother him as much as he thought it might, though that was probably due to the fact that his concentration was currently preoccupied with keeping him standing.

He turned on the tap and filled up a glass, his movements sluggish and his hands uncooperative. He had just pulled the glass to his lips when he heard the door to the apartment open and close quietly. Half a second later the silence was shattered by a cry of alarm.

"What are you _doing?_" Danny's voice demanded. Steve turned towards him, careful to keep his weight balanced on the counter. The Jersey native's face was twisted into a strange combination of irritation, disbelief and maybe a little awe.

"I was thirsty," Steve deadpanned, his voice clawing his throat on the way out. He took another gulp of the icy liquid. The relief was instant and he had to smother a small sigh of contentment.

"And you didn't do the logical thing of waiting for me to get back and asking me to get you one. No, of course you didn't. Because you're you. And you have to make everything so much more difficult." The irritation appeared to be winning in his sea of emotions.

"I didn't know when you'd be back. And I'm quite capable of looking after myself," he said indignantly.

"Sure. Why don't you go ahead and stand on your own then, and stop leaning on the counter?" Again with the incredible observations. Steve scowled, but made no move to stand; he was almost certain that doing so would only end up with him on the floor and Danny crooning about how he was right.

"It's actually quite comfy," he supplied with a self mocking smile.

"Of course it is. Do you want a hand?" He took half a step towards the ex SEAL, but came no closer. For the first time Steve realised the oddity of this situation; in any normal circumstances, Danny would be right beside him, trying to drag him back to the bed and forcing him to sit. But right now, the Jersey native was all but hugging the wall on the opposite side of the room, staying well out of arms reach, almost as though he was worried Steve might start throwing punches. That was of course ridiculous: he would never hit his friend – out of the two of them, Danny was the only one who had landed a punch on the other – and besides, it wasn't like he had the strength to do any damage right now.

"Danno," he started and then broke off. He knew he needed to apologise, but talking about things like this had never been his strong suit. "Look, about before... I'm sorry. It's just-" He paused again, looking away. God, what he wouldn't give to be anywhere else.

"Steve." Danny's voice cut him off, but he said nothing else, waiting for the ex SEAL to meet his eyes. When he did he paused for a moment, getting his words straight in his mind. "I know that this is hard for you. I don't even want to consider what you're having to deal with right now, but that doesn't mean that I can't help. I know that to solve this we need you. Even on unrelated cases we need you. Five 0 is a team, and we'll look out for each other. And if that means grounding your sorry ass when you're too proud to admit that you're not one hundred and ten percent, then so be it. We'll get them Steve, never doubt that."

The sincerity in his partner's voice astounded Steve, and it took his sluggish mind several seconds to fully compute what had been said. It took another few minutes to properly form a coherent response.

"I- Thanks. Just... Thanks." Maybe not so coherent after all, but right now it was close enough. Strength finally failing him, the ex SEAL swayed alarmingly, grabbing the counter in an effort to stop his fall. Danny was at his side in an instant, pulling an arm over his shoulder and taking a large proportion of Steve's dead weight.

"Bed time again, I think," Danny pointed out delicately, before proceeding to drag Steve towards said destination. Unable to resist, the ex SEAL allowed himself to be hauled across the small room and then deposited on the soft surface. "Sleep. You might feel better in the morning."

Too tired to really respond, Steve rolled over onto his side, so that no weight was pressing on the wound in his arm. The pain had mostly ceased around the area, but every time it was jostled, the agony would flare up again. He had decided early on in his life that pain medication was a godsend.

It didn't take long for the waves of blissful unconsciousness to wash over him, and with a small sigh he succumbed to the darkness once more.

**505050505050**

When Steve next woke up it was dark beyond the still drawn curtains, and from somewhere beyond the end of the bed there was the soft sound of the breath of someone sleeping. A glance at the clock told him that it was very early morning. He sat up; trying to work out what it was that had woken him up, but he couldn't see anything in the darkened room.

Reaching out, his hand searched for his phone blindly, before he eventually discovered it on the bed side table. Unlocking it, careful not to shine the light towards his partner, he frowned as he saw the multitude of texts he had received. There were a couple from the rest of the team wishing him well, then another one or two from friends asking after him. There was a text from Cathy to say hi and informing him of her next leave dates. With a smile, he realised he would be able to see her in a couple of days, and he took great comfort from the thought. It was times like this when he really valued her companionship.

None of those messages really surprised him though. What caught his attention were the three messages from withheld numbers. The first one had been sent hours ago and was simple, though all the more chilling because of it.

'_Don't think you can win Commander.' _He stared at the text for several long moments, before deciding that he wasn't going to be able to decipher anything from it right now. The next text, sent about half an hour ago, was longer, and much less threatening.

'_Steve, I can't tell you who this is, and please don't try and find out. You'll lead them right to me if you do. I was a friend of Benji's too, and I want to help. I don't know what you know about Benji's work, but I think you would do well to start at the end and work backwards. You'll find what you need.' _With another frown he went to the final message. He had received is a few moments ago, and the alert would have been what had woken him. There was no text, just a phone number which he didn't recognise. It appeared to be a mobile number; it could belong to absolutely anyone.

Setting the phone down again, he leant back and pondered what all of it meant. He was getting stressed out by this case. It demanded him to think outside of the box, and as soon as he found answers, all he was met with was more questions. Could the sender of the second text be one of the friends that Benji had mentioned? Or, more likely, one of the enemies? He really had no clue any more.

The first message was obviously a threat to scare him into giving up on the case, which he wouldn't do. Even if this hadn't been a personal matter, he would never respond to threats, especially from someone who was too cowardly to face him openly.

'_What do I do now? I have to tell the others about the messages, they're important to the case. But if they think I'm under threat they won't let me anywhere near. Of course, that wouldn't stop me, but this will all be over quicker if I have their help.'_

He spent the next few hours sat there, thinking, barely registering when the sun breached the horizon, sending stray shafts of light into the darkness of the apartment. He _did _notice that the light no longer caused his head to explode, which was a pleasant revelation. On that thought, he realised that he felt much better than he had before. The final trembles had left his limbs, and though his strength was still severely depleted, it was no longer completely gone. Stretching, he relished the cracks in his joints, releasing the tension that had built up over the last few days.

"You know, I really hate it when people do that," came an indignant voice from the floor. Looking over, Steve saw Danny awake and watching him. "How long have you been up?"

"A while. Got some interesting texts." Without further explanation, he flipped his phone towards the Jersey native who grabbed it out of the air with impressive reflexes. Flicking through the messages, his face darkened considerably, and Steve suddenly felt pity for the criminals that had been chased down by Danny Williams. Poor bastards didn't stand a chance.

"More threats," he said eventually. "I must say they do appear to lack originality." At that Steve had to laugh. Only Danny would be so utterly random.

"You might have a point. What do you think we should do?"

"I think..." he trailed off, looking his partner over. After a second he nodded to himself, and made a decision. "I think we go to the office and track down the bastards behind this. Objections?" Steve was already grinning in anticipation.

"None at all babe," he said with a laugh.

**505050505050**

_So yeah, more apologies for the delay. I wouldn't be surprised if no one was reading this anymore._

_What do you think? Yeah, another slow chapter. But the action (and by definition further whump of our lovable commander) is definitely on the way. Promise. Cross my heart._

_Anyone who is bothering to stick with this, many thanks. I'm sorry for being such a useless updater. I'm trying my best. _

_Anyways, see you next time. _


	12. Chapter 12

_So, it's been almost two months. There are no words to convey my apologies. I cannot be more sorry. My only excuse is the horror of exams and the slight lack of episodes – and therefore inspiration – over the last few weeks._

**505050505050**

"Steve!" Kono's tone was one of joyful confusion, and it brought a smile to the commander's face. At her shout, Chin appeared out of his office, breaking into a smile as soon as he saw his friend back on his feet.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as they got closer.

"Better, thanks. Danny _finally _agreed to let me out the house," he said, shooting a mischievous grin at his partner.

"Sure, make me out to be the bad guy. I'll ground you again if I have to," he warned back, but the smile shining in his eyes told them all that it was only an idle threat. Mostly. Chin and Kono laughed at the mock glare Steve threw towards the Jersey native.

"Try. I dare you." They had reached the computer table by now, and Kono was automatically pulling up their files on the case so far to fill in the two detectives who were still glaring at each other like school children. She smiled softly at their antics, like a mother might.

"This is everything we were able to find on Dominic Eastwood and his company, Easter Trading. From what we can tell, the entire company is spotless, completely legit. All their transactions are monitored carefully by internal teams as well as privately owned banks on the mainland. Over the last few months there has been no suspicious activity. Financially anyway." Danny felt a slight sinking in his chest at this, and he was keeping a careful eye on his partner. They needed a lead soon or the ex SEAL was going to start becoming unstable.

"Did you look into Joseph Tyler?" Danny asked, glancing between the cousins.

"Tyler?" Steve questioned, out of the loop.

"Eastwood's ex business partner, according to the website." The Jersey native supplied, though he looked at the others for confirmation. Websites had been known to lie in the past.

"Yeah, he was bought out by Eastwood about nine years ago. From what we could find there was no bad blood between them, they just decided to go their separate ways. Tyler ended up with a successful lumber company in Maine.**" Chin explained, finding various scans official documents of said company on the computer table and tossing them up onto the screens. A picture of a thin, weedy man followed.

"He doesn't look like someone who made riches legally," Steve observed quietly, and the others nodded in agreement. He looked slippery, one of those people who you could never quite pin down. It was a trait common among successful criminals.

"So, do we have anything to go on?" Danny asked after a moment.

"Well, nothing solid. But Eastwood did come back to Hawaii. For someone who didn't return when his brother died, it seems a little strange to come home now doesn't it?" Kono asked, instinctively looking at Steve. He was the one that knew the guy.

"Dom hated his brother. There was an incident, years before I met him, and after they had very little to do with one another. I don't know what happened. When his brother – Nick, I think – died the police looked into Dom's involvement. He contacted me to ask for advice for what to do."

"What did you tell him?" Danny asked, slightly intrigued by the look into his partner's past.

"I told him to tell the truth. Offered support. I was half way across the world, in-" He cut himself of quickly, realising that he couldn't end that sentence. "Either way, I couldn't exactly come running to the rescue."

"Didn't you ever wonder if he had anything to do with Nick's death?"

"He told me he didn't, and he was my friend. Why would I question it?" Steve pointed out. He fell silent, staring off into the distance trying to figure out a plan. "Do we know where Dom is now?" Kono started tapping away at the computer.

"He has a room in Waimanalo. Here's the address," she pulled it up onto the screen. "I think that's the closest we can get you. Maybe the staff there will know." Steve nodded, and turned to the door.

"Keep trying to dig up something. Anything. Go through Dom's financials, any remaining family, that kind of thing."

"Do you have any idea what kind of thing we're looking for, boss?" Kono called after him, just as he reached the door.

"None at all," he called back, grinning at her, before leaving the room. With a long suffering sigh, Danny followed him.

Once he was outside, Steve breathed in the cool air, relishing in the breeze that calmed his fiery skin. He was burning up, and even in the air conditioned building it seemed stuffy and claustrophobic.

"You sure you're alright to do this, aren't you?" Danny's voice made it clear that he knew the answer to that was 'no.' But he also was aware of what Steve would say.

"I'm fine, Danno."

"Sure you are. I'm driving. I refuse to die in a ridiculous car accident because you passed out at the wheel. I'd never live it down." Steve laughed gently at that, even if he was mocking himself. It was a nice reprieve from the stress of recent days.

"Fair enough." Without argument he walked to the passenger door and slid in. It wasn't until he was sat down again that he realised his legs had begun to shake with the effort. Damn, he was tired. It didn't make any logical sense; all he had really done for the last few days was sleep. He hated being ill, it made so much of his day to day routine impossible.

"You got the address?" Danny asked as he clipped in his seatbelt. The SEAL nodded as he mirrored the action. One thing – of many – that the Navy had insisted upon was having a near photographic memory. It was an invaluable weapon when in the field, and it had saved his ass more than once.

"Head towards Bellows Beach*. Waimanalo's just south of there, on the Eastern shore."

"Sure thing babe," Danny said with a wink that had Steve laughing until it hurt.

**505050505050**

Pulling up to the B&B***, Danny instantly noticed the dilapidated front, the faded signs and the peeling paint on the benches that were dotted around.

"Looks... cosy," Steve deadpanned, matching the Jersey native's thoughts exactly.

"For a CEO of a major company it seems a little common, don't you think?" He pointed out. It was true; by all accounts, one thing that Eastwood was not lacking in was money. He had inherited enough from rich parents to keep him in comfort for most of his natural life, and had then made a killing with Easter Trading.

"And I'm fairly sure his mom**** still lives on the island. Why would he choose to stay here? Unless he was trying to avoid being found," Steve mused quietly. Automatically, they both checked that their weapons were where they should be. Something about this wasn't right.

"Ready?" Danny took a quick scan of his partner to see how well he was holding it together. He was actually doing a convincing job of looking healthy, and if the Jersey native didn't know him better, he might have believed the ruse. As it was, he could see the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, he had noticed the trembling hands. But he knew that Steve needed to do this almost as much as he needed to rest up, so he kept his comments to himself.

"Let's go." With a slight lack of coordination, the ex SEAL hauled himself out of the vehicle, and eyed the building speculatively. He automatically sought out exits if anything went wrong, as well as cover should this turn nasty. He seriously hoped it didn't. He wasn't sure if he could fire on an old friend, and if Danny got hurt due to his hesitation he'd never be able to live with himself.

Entering the building felt like stepping back in time. The reception was dated, and desperately in need of renovation. The wallpaper was peeling, and the sofa to one side had some questionable stains across it. The young woman behind the desk stared at them in shock for a moment, clearly unused to having customers, before she sprung into action.

"Good afternoon gentlemen, are you looking for a room?" She smiled pleasantly at them, recovering quickly. Steve shot her a winning smile and she blushed lightly, her professional facade failing slightly as she glanced down. Danny looked at him with a knowing grin and the SEAL rolled his eyes back at him. The Jersey native kept going on about how he shouldn't be allowed to talk to women any more.

"Not exactly, thanks. We were hoping you could tell us where to find a guest of yours, Dominic Eastwood?" Steve kept the smile on his face, hoping he could beguile her into just telling them, instead of having to flash his badge. If she was clued up on the law – which he had to admit, she didn't appear to be – she may be aware that in theory they would need a warrant.

"Er," she started, biting her lip. The blush hadn't faded from her cheeks and it made her look distinctly flustered. "I'm not sure that's our policy..." She didn't sound at all certain, and Steve pounced on it.

"Not just this once? He's an old friend." Danny was trying not to laugh out loud at his partner's hilarious attempts at persuasion, but he was shut up when the receptionist began tapping at her keyboard obediently.

"Room 12. It's just down the hall," she pointed. "Don't mention this to my manager, he wouldn't like it." She looked torn.

"We won't say a word," Danny reassured her, and she appeared to notice him for the first time. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned for his partner who had already disappeared into the corridor. When they were out of earshot, he turned to Steve and muttered: "One day you're going to have to teach me how to do that."

"Do what?" He knew exactly what of course, but it was fun to wind Danny up sometimes.

"You know full well what. You are aware that you'll have screwed up whatever relationship that girl is in right now?"

"She'll be fine. I'm not nearly as destructive as you seem to want to believe, Danno." At that moment, they reached the door with a rusted number 12 nailed to it, and they cut off the conversation. Gently, Steve knocked on the door, trying to conceal the slight tremor that he couldn't lose. It took a moment but then, slowly, the door was pulled open, and Danny found himself looking at an aged version of the man on the website. Dominic Eastwood.

**505050505050**

_Did I just make a door dramatic? I think I did. :)_

_**I have no clue as to the success of lumber companies in Maine. I'm not even sure if there _are_ lumber companies in Maine. Here you can see my shocking lack of knowledge of America. Feel free to correct me with an alternative. _

_*This is, apparently, an Air Force station in Oahu. It's near Waimanalo, so I figured I'd throw it in there._

_***Do you have B&B's in America really? (Just more proof about how little I know...)_

_****You have no idea how painful it is for me to spell it like that..._

_Wow, lots of AN this time :O_

_I've reread the last few chapters and I've realised I'm not really happy with them. What do you guys think? Do you think this story is dragging on a bit, or going in the wrong direction? Thanks to the massive gaps between updates I've not got a very good feel of this story, so I'm unsure. Any input would be really helpful :)_

_So yeah, there you have it. Sorry this took so long. I hope the update makes up for it, just a little bit. Hopefully the next gap will be nowhere near as long. Also, have you guys seen the promo pictures of the next episode? Alex O'loughlin looks AMAZING. I want one._


	13. Chapter 13

_So, it's been a while. My excuses are as follows: I have A levels in a few months, and they are killing me. I'm currently writing my own original story, cause I want to get into publishing. My family are essentially re-designing our garden, and I've been helping out a lot with that._

_There you go. Those are my excuses for being a lazy ass. Apologies._

**505050505050**

There was a slight moment where the two parties just stared at one another, trying to work out what happened now. Eastwood was staring at Steve like he was a ghost, and the ex SEAL just stared right back, trying to quell the rush of memories that leapt into his mind. He was trying to tell himself that he couldn't focus on his old friend; he needed to see a suspect. It wasn't working terribly well.

"Steve?" His voice was quiet, filled with the surprise written all over his face.

"Hey Dom," was the only reply, before the blonde haired man was out of his door and hugging the Commander. The business man was a good foot shorter than Steve, so the ex SEAL had to stoop slightly to hug him back.

Danny suddenly felt very out of place. This was a private moment for his best friend, and the Jersey native knew that Steve wouldn't want him to see this. Ducking his head, he pointedly looked at his shoes until they were done with their reunion. Danny found himself wondering just how long it had been since they had seen each other, and how close they had once been. Going by the hug: the answer was pretty darn close.

"This is about Benji isn't it?" The two men had pulled apart, and now Eastwood was glancing between the two, taking in the badges at their hips. Steve hesitated slightly, then nodded. "It's terrible, what happened to him. But please, come in." He ushered both of them through the door, into a small room that was in the same condition as the B&B it belonged to.

In one corner, a patch of damp was spreading across the wall, filling the air with a slightly rotten smell. There was a small bed, unmade, complete with a bedside table that was missing one of the legs. Next to the door there was a sofa, the cushions sunken and the pattern long since faded. Danny's eyes trailed around the room, trying to keep the confusion from his face; this guy was rich, wasn't he? The detective who was permanently strapped for cash* lived in a better place than this.

"It's a dump, you can say it. I would have found a better place, but I've haven't really had the time to plan anything." Eastwood gestured for them to sit on the sofa, and he perched himself on the edge of the bed, nervously folding and unfolding his hands.

"Why aren't you staying with your mom? She's still on the island isn't she?" Steve was watching his old friend like a hawk, trying to remain objective as he took in the nervous twitches, the way his eyes kept darting to the door and then to the suitcase beside the bed.

"Yeah, she still lives here. But things have been... hard for her. Even since Nick died... Well, she hasn't been the same." Dominic's voice was low with something akin to grief, and Danny puzzled over that fact. It was clear from what they had found that Eastwood had not mourned his brother's passing, but the love for his mother was obvious. "It's one of the reasons I came back to the islands: to be closer to her. One thing I didn't count on was her not wanting to see me."

"What do you mean?" Danny felt mean prying like this, but it had to be asked.

"I don't think she ever really forgave me for not returning for my brother's funeral. I assume you know that Nick and I were at odds?" Danny nodded, his eyes flicking involuntarily to Steve then back to Eastwood, who clearly understood the look. "It wasn't long after our father died that Nick began to see this girl. Caroline... something." He waved a hand dismissively. "I was 16 and angry at the world. It wasn't long before I met you," he nodded at Steve who smiled at an old memory.

"Dom and I met in much the same way we did," Steve told Danny with a small smile. "He punched me too." Dominic laughed out loud, and the detective couldn't help but grin at the recollection of his first day on the job with insane partner.

"Oh? Did you get him shot too?"

"Not quite. Though we did end up in a bar fight, didn't we?" Danny found himself warming to Eastwood. Though he couldn't quite dispel his doubts, the business man seemed personable, and the detective could see how he and Steve would click. The ex SEAL in question was laughing, looking more animated than he had since he had first seen his friend's body in the sand. With a sudden jolt, Danny realised how much he had missed this; the happiness in his best friend's face. A warmth flooded through him.

"We were loose cannons back then," Dominic remarked with nostalgia.

"_Some _of us still are," Danny retorted, looking pointedly at his partner who feigned a hurt expression. Eastwood laughed again then sobered.

"Either way, it was my hot-headedness that set everything off back then. When I saw my brother with this girl, I was so mad at the idea he had already forgotten our father; I couldn't understand how he was ready to move on with his life. In a petty way, I suppose I was jealous of his happiness. I... I went off on one. Ranting and raving about how much of a disappointment he was to our family, and how Caroline would never be good enough for him. I hit him. Square in the face. Broke his nose." There was genuine remorse in his tone. "I've always regretted what I did, but I never found the courage to apologise. I meant to come home for the funeral, but it didn't feel right; he wouldn't have wanted me there."

"Benji told me that you talked to him about it at the time," Steve put in.

"He was always a good friend to me. To you as well from what I could gather?" The ex SEAL nodded, offering a sad smile.

"We need to ask you some questions, if you don't mind," Danny said gently. Eastwood nodded understandingly.

"I figured you might. I'll do my best to help you."

"You arrived on the island a few weeks ago, yes?"

"Yes, I flew in from LA..." he paused, thinking. "Ten days ago now."

"Los Angeles?" Danny's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, recalling the credit card record Chin had shown him that morning. "We had been led to believe that you were in Sacramento before you came to the islands." Eastwood's eyes darted between the partners for a moment, clearly trying to work out where that knowledge had come from. Eventually, he conceded, nodding at the detective.

"You would be right. Mostly I work out of LA, but every now and then I have to travel to various branches of ETC. The unit in Sacramento are looking to expand, and I was there to approve their plans and check over the financials." Danny desperately wanted to ask about the $500 withdrawal, but he decided that now wasn't the time. Steve, though silent, was stiff and was refusing to look at either of the men in the room.

"You said that one of the reasons you came back to the island was to be with your mom. What were the other reasons?"

"Again it was work, I'm afraid. The Honolulu branch had to close a few years ago thanks to a lack of funding, but now that the company is more stable we are looking to re-expand. More personally, I want to open up a branch here so that I can move back to the islands. I've missed it here, and besides, I think that my mom needs me around, even if she won't admit it."

"You're moving back?" Steve suddenly perked up, a confusion Danny didn't fully understand colouring his tone. Eastwood grinned at him.

"That was the plan. My wife has never much liked the city, and I've always wanted to bring up my children here."

"You have children?" Danny was surprised this hadn't come up before.

"A little girl, Charlotte. She's turning four in two months. Yvonne, my wife, is nineteen weeks pregnant with another daughter." His love for them shone in his face, and he lit up in much the same way Danny did when talking about his Gracie. "Charlotte love the sea side, and I think she'd love Hawaii. But I can't move here unless the company does." Danny nodded his understanding.

"When was the last time you saw, or heard from, Benji?" This was one of the harder questions and he felt the atmosphere in the room harden and tense. It took a minute for Eastwood to provide an answer.

"Well... up until I arrived here, I hadn't seen him in person for over four years. I mean, we talked. On the phone, with letters, however we could. The last letter I recieved from him was the day before I flew out here. I was already planning the trip, so no, it wasn't what made me decide to actually come. But, it did... encourage me." He hesitated. "Look, Benji was my friend, and if there was anything I could do to help him, I felt it was my duty to do so." Steve flinched, but Danny pretended not to notice. "His letter told me that he needed to see me, said it was important, but he hadn't said what exactly. When I landed, there he was at arrivals with no word of explanation."

"You saw him?" Steve's face had gone blank with shock. This meeting would not have been too long before the murder.

"Yeah. It was weird though. He didn't act like an old friend happy to see me again; he was all jumpy and kept saying that it wasn't safe to talk there. He dragged me into a cab before we'd really even said hello. It wasn't like him." Steve nodded, brow furrowed. The detective was content to sit there quietly for now, allowing the others to work through it on their own. "We ended up in the middle of nowhere; I couldn't even tell you what part of the island we were on. It was only then that he started to talk to me, telling me that he'd been working on something big, and that he'd stumbled on some stuff that he could hardly believe."

"Did he mention a conspiracy?"

"Yeah, but none of what he said made sense. He kept going on about people I'd not ever heard of, and then some others that I'd rather _not _hear about. He said that the Yakuza were involved." The partners shared a long look, both asking the same thing: _Wo Fat?_

"Can you remember any of the names?"

"Hiro... somebody. A foreign name. Oriental."

"Noshimuri?"

"That's the one. You know him?" Eastwood frowned at the two of them.

"We're aware of his comings and goings," Steve supplied vaguely, trying not to think about the man who was responsible for his mother's death.

Then, for a moment, silence fell. Steve was trying to concentrate on the matters at hand, and not think about how deep there problems were becoming. Danny was trying to read his partner to see how he was coping. He might as well have been staring at a wall for all the good it did him. And Eastwood was desperately trying to decide whether or not to tell the two men in front of him the rest of the story.

"There's more," he said eventually. "He kept saying things about the governor... Telling me to watch my back. And then..." he hesitated before plunging ahead. "He gave me this." From the suitcase he pulled out a thick envelope, and passed it to the ex SEAL. On the front was Steve's name in a handwriting that had become familiar to the detective over the last few days: Benji's. "He asked me to give you this."

"Did he say anything about it?" Steve was holding the package as though it was going to blow up in his face.

"Nothing more than to give it to you if you came to find me. And here you are. He told me that you would need it for something, but wouldn't tell me what. He said that it was imperative that I gave it to you. Made me promise on something that matters Steve. Whatever is in there is important, I can tell you that." He looked away, and then back into Steve's eyes, burning with intensity. "Promise me, whatever happens, you won't let him down."

"I won't," replied the ex SEAL with a vehemence that made it hard to doubt him. "I gave him my word too." He paused then, looking at the parcel. "Any idea what he was working on?"

"Not a clue, beyond what I've already told you. He played things close to the chest did our Benji." Steve remembered the open, honest boy he had once known, and frowned.

"He must have changed."

"Doesn't everyone?" Eastwood retorted. Steve gave a half hearted smile.

"I guess. You just never think they will until suddenly you find you no longer recognise them." He stood, stretching from being cramped on the sofa. Danny followed suit, happy to be leaving the claustrophobic room. "We need to be gone. Thanks for all the help." Eastwood nodded, smiling in acknowledgement. Just before the ex SEAL left however, he looked over his shoulder. "Oh, and Dom? Take care."

"You too," the man replied, waving once as the door swung shut.

Nothing more was said between the two men until they reached the car again. Steve slid into the passenger seat once again without complaint. The Jersey native raised an eyebrow but left it alone.

"So, what's in the package?" Danny asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

"I don't know. I'll open it back at the office." Steve sounded very much like he didn't want to talk about it at this moment in time, so the detective let it drop. The atmosphere in the car was tense as the ex SEAL worked to keep himself in check, whilst at the same time trying to control his trembling as the illness continued to work its way through his system.

Danny for his part was worrying over the stubborn man beside him. Steve wasn't up for this. But, in the interests of not dying in a car crash due to the driver being decked by a navy SEAL, he kept his mouth shut. And silently, he worried.

**505050505050**

_*Do you guys have this saying in the USA?_

_Also, there is a poll on my page you might be interested in. This story doesn't have too long to go, but it is only part one of two. There will be another multi-chapter fic coming after this one, regardless of the poll result. However, I'm going to start up a brand new fic as well and I'd love opinions._

_**I don't like this chapter. **__I really, really don't. But I felt guilty for not posting. Any comments would be greatly appreciated to help me make it better.___

_This story is crap. I know. I'm going to spend some time going over it and fixing it up at some stage, but I really haven't the time right now. _


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